


The Mad Beast Within

by HeadintheCloudsForever



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Love, Marriage, Pregnancy, True Love, Werewolf Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 133,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadintheCloudsForever/pseuds/HeadintheCloudsForever
Summary: AU. Remadora. Nymphadora and Remus are married happily following a quiet ceremony, with one minor caveat. They’re expecting their first child, and the newlywed’s world is turned upside down when an unfortunate accident occurs, and she becomes a fully-fledged werewolf. How will this affect their baby, and will she be able to adjust to the new lifestyle with the help of her husband? Rated T for Teens.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 25
Kudos: 16





	1. The Accident

**A/N: Hi all and welcome to my 3rd Remadora story for the HP fandom. This is a completely separate story from _Before the Storm_ AND _Worth the Risk_ , also set in an AU, and this story is much shorter than _Risk_ and _Storm_. I plan to post only 1 chapter a week for this story since I'm still in the middle of finishing up _Worth the Risk_ , so I appreciate your patience.**

**The Mad Beast Within Summary: Nymphadora and Remus are married happily following a quiet ceremony, with one minor caveat. They're expecting their first child, and the newlywed's world is turned upside down when an unfortunate accident occurs, and she becomes a fully-fledged werewolf. How will this affect their baby, and will she be able to adjust to the new drastically different lifestyle with the help of her husband? Rated T for Teens.**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE **

The cool September air was chilled as autumn leaves of red, brown, and yellow softly rode the bitter Wales breeze. A small village at the edge of the woods rested peacefully through the early morning. Everything was still. _Silent_.

Not a single voice or sound was heard, save for the gentle swaying creaking's and groans of the tall dark oak trees that lined the edge of the little wizarding village. The air carried with it the faint, heady scent of rainfall, and a low rumbling noise could be heard in the distance.

For the most part, the villagers rested peacefully in their beds. Not a soul was awake, all except one. A young witch stood near the forest. Though the night air was refreshing, the woman shook, rattled, as she raked her free hand not clutching into a tight vice-grip on her wand through her thick dark pixie cut and emanated a tense exhale through her nose in frustration.

If she had stayed up all night, it would have made no difference to her exhaustion. She had tried to sleep earlier and had awoken from yet another nightmare. His face. Right before _he_ killed her. The dream was always the same.

Her brain over the last few hours was constantly searching for any sign that Remus was all right. But he purposefully fled the house, not wanting to put her in harm's way during his transformation. It was the third night of this month's full moon, and he was unreachable and had been for the last six or seven hours.

Nymphadora's frown deepened and she cast a wary glance over her shoulder, towards the hill, where their cottage rested. It crouched low into the grassy embankment, as though it were trying to hide, but the misshapen slate roof was too large to go unnoticed.

Through the darkness, she could see the course, unevenly sized, grey stones that made up the walls. As she got closer, the occasional flash of color - some blues, others green or brown- emerged from the grey stones that looked like eyes trying to steal a glimpse of the world.

The cottage hunkered low on the moor like a child in the elements trying to keep warm. Yet it looked alive and welcoming with a thin silver trail curling from the crooked stone chimney. The sides were the same grey slabs as the low walls in the dales and the roof was a darker slate. It wasn't much. It was small and humble, but it was _theirs_. The perfect place to raise their child. _If you find him_ , her mind offered.

Nymphadora scowled, brushing away the unhelpful, tormenting thoughts that had plagued her mind for the last hour, with a curt, annoyed wave of her hand not currently clutching onto her wand. She'd called Sirius for backup, but he had yet to arrive, and if she waited another minute for Black, then there was every possibility that Remus was in danger. She couldn't wait anymore.

She needed him _alive_ , because, and though she had been hoping to wait for a better time to reveal her unexpected news, the two of them were to become parents. Nymphadora had visited Molly a few weeks ago, practically in tears and confiding in the matronly older witch who was very much like a surrogate mum to her that she could keep nothing down most days, and she tired of feeling so sick all the time, and it was Molly who had gently broken the news to her that she was pregnant, and Nymphadora had wanted to wait until she was a month along in case something happened before announcing her news to Remus.

They were going to have a _baby_ , and Remus needed a new reason to fight and live, to survive yet another full moon cycle, though considering he'd taken his Wolfsbane Potion that she had brewed for him last night, he should have been back by now, since the brew allowed him to keep his mind when he transformed, so if that was the case, then why the bloody hell hadn't he come home to her?

Her husband would either walk over the threshold of the forest before the sun was fully in the sky or Remus wouldn't. Then she would know for sure.

Her stomach shifted uneasily, and she noticed that the hands that she was hugging herself with were pinching into her skin, the spare cloak she'd brought for Remus draped over her arm had slackened and had started to fall to the ground.

Thinking fast, her arm shot out to catch the garment before it could land in the dirt and mud. Twenty-six-year-old Nymphadora Lupin furrowed her brows into a frown, holding her lit wand at eye-level, squinting her eyes as she struggled to see. The path beneath her feet faded as it led into the darkness of the woods that her husband had disappeared to more than eight hours ago, and she could not shake the feeling that something bad had happened, and she hated it.

Nymphadora released her hands, but then could not figure out what to do with them, so instead, they clasped and unclasped each other as if in constant need of touch and reassurance. But what they needed was to be able to touch Remus, to drink him in by running her hands over his lined and weathered skin.

A feeble ringing filled her fatigued ears. What she wouldn't give to not lay awake on nights of the full moon, wondering if this were the time when he would not come home to her. There was nothing she wouldn't give to not stir awake, night after night, on the full moons, alone in their bed, without Remus.

 _He should have been back by now_. The young witch's troubled mind during this time of the month for her husband, Remus, felt like it was reeling.

The inky darkness of the edge of the woods before her engulfed the frail light emanating from the tip of her wand, diminishing all the happiness and bliss that had risen with the sun earlier this morning. The two of them had received an invitation to attend Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's eldest son, Bill's wedding, to Veela and former Triwizard Tournament participant, Fleur Delacour, next month.

The dread and ambiguity of not knowing what happened to her husband owned her, pushing against Dora like an invisible gale, attempting to reverse her footfalls back to her bed and patiently await his return, but she couldn't move.

Dread had her stomach locked up tight, nothing getting in or out. Dread sets her face like rigor mortis, her teeth ground in agitation and locked tightly together. But unless it was like a Time-Turner and could turn back the time, drag the sun from the sky and take her back to that night when her husband was only five years old and his life irrevocably changed for the worse when werewolf Fenrir Greyback bit him, then she could do nothing to quell this feeling of vicious fear.

The wretched emotion crept down her spine like a careful spider leaving a trail of silk. Dora felt her feet on her skin, descending until she was almost frozen to the spot. Her stomach felt full of lead, and she could taste the acidic stomach bile that coated the back of her throat like slime, and she thought she'd vomit.

The young witch and Auror ran her tongue along the wall of her teeth and bit the inside wall of her cheek and took a hesitant step into the dark woods.

She did not necessarily want to leave the comfort of their cottage yet follow it she had to for the sake of Remus. Somewhere in there, he lay in wait, and he held the answers she so desperately needed as the man's wife and soulmate.

And so, Nymphadora allowed her feet to follow the narrow strip of naked earth among the giants of root and leaf. She let her hands touch their skin as she passed, feeling their strangely gentle spirits soothe her own, and she paused, her left hand resting on the gnarled bark of a half-dead oak tree, and her gaze drifted down to the simple plain yellow gold wedding ring she wore proudly on her left ring finger. It had used to belong to Remus's mother, Hope Lupin, and now it was hers. Tonks let out a tense sigh and continued resting her hand on the bark.

For this…this was their world, his world during that time of the month, as the trees stretched towards the light that they never saw and yet they sensed it.

And Nymphadora knew she must do the same…open up her other senses…to sound, to the aroma, and listen to very carefully to every single instinct.

Stepping into the forest robbed you of one sense and heightened the others. It was disorientating to be almost blinded but given the ears of a wolf.

Even the soft susurration of the branches felt heavy in the ears. The sense of smell was sensitized, the loam in the earth and the decomposing leaves made the atmosphere close and thick. The blackness nurtured a sense of claustrophobia inside you even though the woodland stretched unbroken for miles.

The bare branches spiked into the sky - no sign of life to be found anywhere. It was so dark you were barely able to see where you were going. There were only small sounds of rustling bushes and the howl of the wind. You didn't know what laid in the dark forest, all you knew was that it wasn't going to be a peaceful journey.

The narrow path, which was made uneven by the knotted roots that crossed it, branched at intervals. There was no map to follow, but even if there was the perpetual dark would prevent you from using it. The young woman spent several minutes drinking in the feedback of all her senses.

Aside from her own noisy breath, there was nothing to be heard and the woods are simply too dark to see much at all. Black trunks against an almost black backdrop doesn't make for much to see and her imagination began to supply horrors to fill the void.

After a minute or two, the sound of running water permeates the inky blanket. She was near a brook. A brook would hide her scent, cover the tracks. She wanted to run, but it was with faltering steps and raised hands that she moved on, like a sick game of "blind man's bluff." Nymphadora wanted to silence her feet, but all she did was step on twigs and kick stones, alerting whatever was in here with her to her presence as she inadvertently gave away her position to what hid in shadows.

The young witch and wife could feel the darkness drawing closer to her and pressing down, suffocating her slowly as she stepped carefully through the thick maze of woodland. The densely packed trees loomed high above but remained still despite the icy breeze that continued to flow around her. The silvery moonlight was slowed to a trickle by the full branches, and soon, she had to squint, only to see a path of gloom and uncertainty that lay in wait for her.

Nymphadora felt like she couldn't move without a plant-touching her skin. Everything that she and Remus loved about the forest where they would take walks just this morning is elevating her heart rate and killing her logical thinking capacity. The sheer denseness of the foliage had made her feel cozy, like in all this space she could still be snug.

The thousands of noises had crashed over the young witch as refreshing as any waterfall, overriding her senses, and setting her brain to the same chemical soup it was in when she fell in love with Remus. In that cocktail of endorphins, she already knew she had wandered too far, now the closeness, the sameness, the noises are like robbers at the door, banging for entrance and the phone line is dead.

Her wide-open eyes moved with pointless speed, she wanted to see sky and space all around - not these twisted tree arms that grope and lofty limbs that blot out even a patch of blue. Even the air, has come to feel like soup in her chest.

She would run but she didn't know which direction to take...

* * *

Though it was still silent like the pre-dawn always is, in that darkness devoid of birdsong, there came a musky scent tinctured with a rancid breath.

A wolf slunk in the shadows, content to remain shrouded in the darkness. His greasy, greying skin split like tree bark. Wiry black hairs sprouted. His once kindly brown eyes melted into a heavier, ruddier color. His bones moved under his skin like mechanical snakes; audible cracks sliced through her and she felt her feet cement into the ground. He was not himself anymore; he was a monster.

The werewolf slunk like he was a part of the shadow world, only visiting the mortal creatures to feed. His heart was cold, and his mind had no room for pity. For his "heaven" was one with many victims to consume, victims who became paralyzed with fear before he dined on their soft flesh. Their cries were music to his ears, their blood the finest perfume. To watch them suffer was his serenity, his joy.

But his greatest satisfaction lay in taking away loved ones; he could taste the difference. Knowing that he'd struck a blow into the lives of their families and friends was sickly sweet, intoxicating, more addictive even than the flesh.

His teeth, eerily incandescent, emitted a strange blue glow and were as sharp as a fine diamond sword. His skin was mostly scar tissue and he shivered in the early fall breeze. What fur there had been was tufty and thin, providing no protection to the elements at all. On his torso and face were recent scabs from a meal that had fought back, now he picked at them with blood-caked claws to relieve the boredom of the stake-out.

Then came a movement from the dwelling, his wait was almost over. For such a large beast he moved with surprising stealth, leaving behind only a trail of large dandruff flakes and his heinous odor.

The werewolf that stalked the countryside of Wales was a natural predator during the full moon. His frontal eyes were better than any hawk and his teeth sharper than steak knives. He moved in the shadows until his victim was in reach and then he would lunge and go in for killing strike.

For the most part, they didn't even have time to call out and all one could hear was the crunching of bones. The creature was huge and grotesque with matted hair and huge twisting horns protruding upward into the dark midnight sky. The contorted figure eclipsed the moon.

It stood on its knotted haunches and stooped as it's wrinkled face stared at its target, a young woman whose aura flooded his flaring nostrils, calling to it, beckoning him forward, the sweet tang of her blood filling his nostrils, and the creature could swear he could almost taste the metallic tang of her blood on his tongue.

The Mad Beast gave off an aura of pure hate and evil expressed in its dull eyes. Through the darkness came the glow of two yellow eyes, like sallow lamplight eight feet off the ground. They moved with a slight sway as if the unseen body prowled like a big cat.

The young woman, a bright young witch, stopped. The eyes did not, with rapid acceleration and a more bounding motion the came right for the She-Stranger that the wolf did not recognize. In less than two seconds the Stranger was on her back gasping for air, and a string of curses unraveled from the woman's tongue, like a ball of yarn unfurling, as the Wolf advanced. She was saying something to the Wolf, this She-Stranger, but he had no concept of language.

With one swift strike of its claw, the Wolf struck out at the She-Stranger, teeth gnashed and bared in a frenzy as it sank its fang deep into the pale column of her throat. It leaked around the edges of his lips, sweet like mo, and delectable.

Her blood, tangy and metallic iron on its tongue, escaped the woman as if it never knew it was welcome to stay. It has a succulent smell, an odor. The bleeding continued, the woman's screams ringing in his wolfish ears, that succubus. The bleeding still flowed thick and free from the woman's neck and face, stark red against the garish white light from the full moon's rays.

The She- Stranger tried to dodge a swing from its massive claws, but it struck her side and she fell again into the dirt, broken, bloodied, and bruised. As the life fluid drained out of her in its garish red, her skin took on the pallor of a corpse. Her stomach felt sick and then one by one she lost control of her limbs until finally, her head slumped. She could still hear, but she could control none of her body.

The Stranger pressed her palms against the mangled flesh, she once heard you were supposed to stop bleeding by putting pressure on wounds.

But, oh, there was so much _blood_ \- dark crimson, with a discreet, metallic scent. It cascaded across the man's skin, right through the girl's fingertips.

The Mad Beast's teeth gnashed again, and he pulled away to study his victim's face. The She-Stranger could hear nothing. All was silenced for her.

The growls of the creature, her own screams as her body gave every feeble twitch and jolt as spasms of pain wracked through it, those were silent, too.

All she could do was feel. Feel the cold ground pressed against her form, the heat from the pain, and the rhythm of the thrumming of her own heartbeat that would signal her end. Nymphadora looked upward into the tree canopies.

Into _his_ face, and she had to squint through the mist and haze of pain. She was sure, yes, she was sure, that she could see his eyes slowly revert to normal.

She closed her eyes as she felt a searing pain, her very last…

* * *

Sirius Apparated into the forest the moment he'd Apparated onto the front porch of the Lupins' cottage and hadn't found either his best friend or his cousin inside. And then he heard the screams. _Her_ screams. The scream tore through Sirius Black like a great shard of glass. The former prisoner of Azkaban felt his eyes widen and pulse quicken, the man's heart thudding like a rock rattling in a box.

The young woman's scream came again, desperate, terrified... human. The blood drained from his face before he was even aware of making a conscious decision, Sirius's legs were pounding furiously on the uneven muddy track, his ears straining for more sounds, more clues as to where it had come from.

Sirius had no clue as to what he'd do when he got there, just that he had to get there, fast. It was the kind of scream that made your blood run cold. It pierced the brain and ignited some primeval pathway. Adrenaline surged through Black's veins, fight, or flight, stand or run, be a hero or a coward.

As his fingers curled around the black handle of his wand, his decision was made. He was going to have to fight. Though, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met his eyes as he practically stumbled into the forest clearing. Sirius had never known Remus to be a savage Wolf, even on nights when he'd forgotten to take the Wolfsbane Potion, but at this moment, he ravaged, bearing his fangs, sinking them deep into the neck of his own beloved wife.

"Oh, _no_ , not her, Moony, not her, not _her_ ," he moaned, blinking back tears, and with a shaking hand, raised his wand.

The Mad Beast let out a yelp as a bolt of red light whizzed past his ear, and despite the tip of Death winking at him as the Wolf turned on its haunches, teeth bared in a mad frenzy and let out a low guttural growl to face the new attacker, and a horrible ringing began to screech on his ears and his heart thrummed so wildly against its cage and the Wolf was feeling every pulse now.

A drop of rage spreading, fevering his already ignited bloodstream, and his breaths were short, hot, and ragged as he lunged. A horrible itch had ruptured on his left jawline and the image of the young She-Stranger's maimed corpse flooded his mind as the image of a Man standing in front of him swam into view.

The Wolf could feel the end of the transformation now as the rage dissipated as mist reflected in the Mad Beast's yellowed eyes, and as Remus Lupin felt himself revert back to his normal human form, he was hardly aware of his best friend immediately shrugging out of his black cloak and draping it over his shivering form to preserve his friend's modesty.

Remus felt his lungs draw in cold breaths of air as his heartbeats rapidly slowed to almost a snail's petty crawl, as his eyes darted to the left and right, glancing at the carnage around him, though his gaze blearily settled and lingered on Sirius, who was kneeling over a limp form.

"Padfoot, who _is_ that?" he demanded, the edges of his voice hardened as he wrapped Sirius's cloak tighter around himself, stumbling and swaying to his feet. "What…what _happened_? Did I…did I hurt someone….?" he stammered, his voice cracking. Remus felt his hands tremble and eye begin to water as he stepped forward towards where Sirius and whoever lay on the ground next to him was.

Somehow, he could not shake the feeling that this was all his fault. His body felt hot and sweat started trickling down his neck. He could feel the throbbing of his own eyes, the ringing screams still vibrating in his eardrums.

The thumping of his own heart against his chest, so audibly loud that he was sure Sirius could hear it. His fingers curled into a fist, nails digging in his palms. He couldn't hear his rapid breathing, but he felt the oxygen flooding in and out of his lungs. Hesitantly, his eyes looked at the lifeless figure before him.

"Did I…do this?" he whispered, his voice breaking and cracking. He swallowed hard down past the growing lump in his throat. "Sirius? Who is that?"

It seemed to take Sirius ages to find his voice, and when he did, his voice sounded muffled and subdued, as though underwater.

"Moony, you need to _leave_. It's not safe for you right now. We need to get you both to St. Mungo's, you don't need to be here for this. I don't want you seeing this, Rem, it would only hurt you," Sirius barked coldly, no warmth in his voice, kneeling on the forest floor to tend to the woman, and Remus blinked, startled, as his best friend threateningly raised his wand, and the man's handsome features hardened and turned quite cold when Remus made no move to follow his orders. "You _don't_ need to be here right now, Moony. Go. **LEAVE**!"

But Sirius was cut off as the cloud moved out from in front of the moon and a single ray of light fell on the victim's face, shrouding it in a swath of pearly white light, and Lupin froze, feeling the blood drain from his face as he recognized the figure beside Sirius.

"No…" _Not her. Not her. Oh, God, oh, Merlin, seven hells, not her!_

"Moony, no, no, _listen to me_!" commanded Sirius gruffly, though he made no attempt to move from his crouched position on the forest floor. "Your—your wife is still alive, a—and she—she's going to be fine, she's got a pulse, but she needs to get to St. Mungo's. You _both_ need to get to St. Mungo's."

Remus heard none of his best friend's words as he deeply inhaled frigid cold air into his own lungs, his cracked and bleeding flingers feeling like they clawed at the ground beneath him.

In his intense silence, he somehow screamed with his whole body. The eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile, the fists clenched with blanched knuckles and the nails digging deeply into the palms of his hand, and he practically fell against blood-stained earth in his mad scramble to appear at his wife's side. " _No_ …"

Sirius always said Remus tended to love like a hurricane. He was right. And in this instance, Lupin knew he was right.

"What have I _done_?! I..I didn't..." He screamed it more to himself than to Sirius, and he barely felt Sirius's strong hand grip onto his shoulder as he used the trunk of an old oak tree as a brace for his back as he gently lowered himself to the floor, cradling Dora's lifeless form in his arms.

"You forgot to take your Wolfsbane Potion. It changed you. You lost control. It wasn't _you_ that did this, Remus. It was... _it_. It wasn't your fault, Moony," came Sirius's voice, though it sounded coarser, rougher than before.

But Remus could hardly register his best friend's words. All he could focus on was his wife.

She looked like Death. Her skin was entirely too pale, absent of color. Remus blinked back tears as lifted a shaking hand to the gash at her throat where the Wolf had ravaged on her flesh. He held his hand to the slash, but no matter the pressure he applied the blood had still gushed between his fingers and oozed under his hand. It had spread into Dora's black sweater, the bright red quickly darkening, taking on a brownish hue.

Those moments he spent pleading with his wife to look at him, to stay with him, feeling the very fluid of her life drain away over his cold hands, Remus felt nothing at all. Time itself had become irrelevant; the seconds could have been hours, or hours mere seconds

Not to have Dora right there was a torture to his fractured soul. Remus didn't break quietly, it was like every atom of his miserable, wretched, murderous being screamed in unison, traumatized that he should exist without his wife.

When the wracking sobs passed, he cried in such a desolate way that no-one could bear to listen for long. Lupin had gone from gregarious to hanging by a thread, a transformation no-one knew how to reverse, not even Sirius Black.

A choked sob worked its way up to his throat. This—this was _not_ supposed to happen. Not his Dora. Not his wife. Why she had done it? She should not have to come looking for him. She should have…stayed away. This was all _his_ fault. Why had she interfered? Why couldn't Dora have just stayed at home?

She would be safe in bed right now. Safe and unharmed, not lying his arms and…

 _No. Sirius said she was alive. Alive, alive, but hurt. Because of you, and you're a nasty animal! Look what she's done to you! Monster. Beast. Animal_.

To watching Dora go from vibrant, full of life and alive, to this. It played repeatedly as if his brain was unwilling to let the images go and its attempts to analyze them, made Remus see them all over again, when he just wanted Dora back, the way she was, for their lives to go on as they had been.

He knew the more he tried to repress it, the more it would just play again, but he couldn't help it. Streaks of fire burned his cheeks as he cried. Each new wave a hot trail of agony as he gently rocked Dora back and forth in his arms, as if he could force her to wake up that way.

The fire of shame and anger at his failure to protect the woman most important to him burned just underneath his pale skin and a deep emptiness filled his heart as the sentiments brewed over and boiled past the seams he could no longer hold together. There was no hope for a man who cried to his death, drowning himself in the tears of his personal hell.

"Look what I've _done_ to you," he wailed, burying his head in her hair.

He was grateful she wasn't awake to hear him cry like this. She'd always hated it, and it was rare that he did, and he reviled the act, considering it a sign of weakness during times of immense stress, but this definitely counted as a stressful situation, and he felt that it was highly warranted this time.

 _I'll get you out, Dora. I promise…_ A stray tear slid down Remus's cheek. He was crying for her. The first time in perhaps his entire life, he was crying for a woman that he loved. He cried, and Dora wasn't even awake to mercilessly tease him about it. Remus gingerly raised a hand, smoothing back a stray strand of short hair behind her ear. Dora's spirit was gentle, and her very presence was like the sun itself, and without it, his miserable life was nothing.

How could he be expected to continue, when he would never see her smile that beautiful white, infectious smile that lit him up from the inside again? Lifting her limp form just so, burying his face in her hair, allowing the sweet scents of lavender and honeysuckle to fill his nostrils, his jaw rooted shut.

Clenching his eyes shut, his teeth rooted in the effort to stay calm. But he just couldn't. The dam broke, and suddenly, he felt his tears begin to slide down his face. It was more than just crying. It was the kind of desolate sobbing that came from a person drained of all hope.

He was only vaguely aware of Sirius kneeling and wrapping his arms around his middle as he knelt on the ground next to Remus, knees digging into the mud and grit of the earth, doing what he could to convey some small measure of comfort. Sirius cared not for Dora's blood from her various cuts and bruises that soaked his shirt or stained his palms.

His best friend's gasping screams echoed around the woods, reverberating, worse than anything he'd ever heard before. The pain that flowed from Remus was as palpable as the frigid autumnal air and soon the only other being at his side was Sirius, struggling to keep his own tears silent, looking down at the lifeless form of his cousin in his best friend's arms. Remus had to believe that she was safe somehow, comfortable.

"I…never wanted this." His voice broke. Ever since they'd begun listening to each other, he could not bring himself to say the three words since their first night together.

It was far too intimate a saying for him to just say every day like he saw other couples do, sometimes he wondered if they truly meant it, as he felt for Dora, and he meant every word. But if there was a chance that saying it would bring her back to him…

"I love you, Dora. More than anything, sweetheart," he whispered into the shell of her ear, choking back a half-sob. There. He'd said it, the thing that he never thought he would utter once from his lips in his lifetime. Hard, wracking sobs shook his frame, yet he no longer gave a damn. He was only barely aware of the sound of Padfoot saying something. "She…she…" But he could not make himself say the words.

 _Not again..._ He didn't care if Sirius saw. The look of heartbreak in his best friend's eyes was almost too much for Remus to bear to look at.

Sensing Remus needed a minute, Sirius murmured something under his breath about alerting Moody and the others, and to expect them at St. Mungo's.

With a loud _crack_! as Black stood and turned on the heel of his boot, he Disapparated, giving Remus a moment alone with his wife, time to grieve.

Lupin nodded, hardly hearing his best friend's words. He let out a hiss through clenched teeth and rooted jaw as his fingers curled into fists in her hair.

Remus was not certain he had ever experienced grief this bad before, though now, it snuck up behind him quietly and took him under its arms in an instant. He felt so _lost_ , so alone. He was lost mostly because he had lost a part of himself that he knew he could not get her back.

Yet he wanted her back so bad as his very life depended on Dora being by his side, but it was gone. She was gone. Vanished.

At first, Remus thought as he buried his face in her hair, fighting back his tears, that grief was something so depressing and bad that it took him ten feet under the earth, but right now, he learned that it was just the price he had to pay for daring to learn how to love someone.

His eyes flung wide open as he felt the slightest shift of movement within his arms.

And then he heard her voice.

"I love you, too."


	2. Guilt

**CHAPTER TWO **

_Isn't it funny, that if I had made a different decision I wouldn't be here now?_ She could hear his voice, faint though it was, sounding like she was underwater, how broken, and hopeless her husband's voice sounded. Never before had Dora heard Remus sound so sad, so desperate, so full of self-hatred, loathing. Why did he hurt? Why was he in so much pain? He shouldn't be, he had no reason to be. What had happened was _not_ his fault, and it could never be his fault.

It was…an _accident_. Her husband spoke her name as if everything he had ever loved had been ripped apart from him. Something was horribly wrong. As the intonations of his quiet, reserved voice rose and fell, his voice coming to her in tides, ebbs and flows like that of the sea, Nymphadora's mind, hazy from exhaustion and barely conscious, began to attempt to sift through the fog that threatened to completely engulf her consciousness.

 _Need to…see him_.

Tonks suppressed a breath and even that ached, every second heaving her chest with hurt. She could swear she felt her face beginning to crumble, leaving her nose blushing a light rosy pink color with stifled, anguished sobs.

Every inch of her protested but there was nothing that could twist back Time itself and spiral her back to the moment when she'd decided to leave the front porch of their cottage in a vain effort to attempt to track down her husband. Neither she nor anybody that Remus knew owned a Time-Turner, and besides, awful things tended to happen to wizards who meddled with time.

Slowly, she tried to lift her head but quickly realized how futile it was when she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

Sharp pains lanced through her neck and her head and colorful spots flashed in front of her eyes. It felt as though her whole body had been ravaged and every twitch, however feeble, caused some muscle or bone to ache. Regardless, she needed to lift her head and find out what was wrong with Remus.

But she found she couldn't. Her arms ached horribly. No matter how much she clenched her eyes shut and forced her body to attempt to twitch just a finger, that was all, just a finger, anything to let Remus know she was alive, they would not obey her command.

Someone could cut them right off and she wouldn't feel a damn thing. She was exhausted. Though for the moment, her numb arms, and the rest of her body, for that matter, were the least of her problems.

 _Remus. Remus. Need to…see him. Something's wrong with him. Wrong, wrong, this is wrong, why is he talking to me like this?! Have to…wake up…move, damn you, just a finger twitch, something. Need to…let him know…alive_ , her conscience helpfully reminded her.

Though the pain spiraling its way through her body was like an icy wind choking the very breath from her lungs and making a noose around her neck. Its savage, bitter blasts cut right to her bones and gripped her brain in its freezing claws. Her heart constricted in its wake, as if not sure it should continue to beat. The pain commanded all of Nymphadora's attention. It did not sit quietly, like that of a simple paper cut or bruise. No.

It cowed her brain into meek submission, demanding a simple solution—to look at Remus—that her body would simply not provide her. Merlin was _cruel_.

Cruel to deny her even this simple wish. Without a break in the pain that spiraled through her entire system, Tonks found she could not formulate a single thought. Tonks struggled, realizing as her mind slowly began to respond now that she knew she had to find a way to wake herself up physically, listening to her husband's whispered sobs into the shell of her ear. She only caught snippets, but she already knew what had happened. She was now…like _him_.

It was then that the profound weight, the gravity of his words hit her. There was no escaping this, what had happened to her. Tonks was now a wolf.

A _werewolf_. Adrenaline flooded her system at that thought, pumping, and beating through her veins like it was trying to escape, or maybe that was just the copious amounts of blood that poured out of her system, it was hard for her to tell. Tonks thought her heart would explode and her eyes, though closed, felt like they were somehow wide with fear and anticipation, though it was not necessarily herself she worried for. She would, in the end, be just fine.

Tonks fought the tears that begged to be free, and her hallowed breathing felt like it stretched her throat until it hurt, and it felt as if on fire. She felt her skin prickle and bile corrupted her throat, and she thought she would vomit. It was _not_ his fault. _Not_ his fault.

The fact that he blamed himself was a lie, she could hear the anguish seeping through his tones, and again, her husband's disheartened cries that were almost screams of anguish ripped through the paper-thin walls of her barely-conscious mind, bringing her back to the current grim reality of her situation that something was wrong with Remus.

 _You're gonna be fine, T_ , her conscience piped up. _Wolf or not, you're an Auror. And you've always prevailed. You've had worse injuries than this_. _Remus isn't going to leave you. He wouldn't. He promised you the night that you married him that he would always be by your side, no matter what happened. With his help, you'll be all right, in the end. You will. Trust me._

 _You're going to be fine_. She chanted it over in her mind like a spell.

 _No matter what_. But rather, she worried for Remus, he would blame himself for what had happened, when it was not and never would be his fault.

 _And…our baby. You're worried about it, aren't you? What will happen to it_? Her conscience piped up. _There's no telling what's going to happen to it during transformations. What if the monthly cycles kill it? What happens then_?

Tonks could feel the sweat drench her skin, the throbbing of her own eyes, the ringing screams vibrating in her ears, and the thrumming of her own feeble heart against her chest, miraculously, somehow, still finding a way to beat. Her fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into the sensitive skin of her palm. The young witch could not hear her rapid breathing, but she could feel the oxygen flooding in and out of her lungs. The fear of the unknown of Remus's condition, that she had, by accident or not, now been thrust into with an affliction of her own, seemed to hit her at once as though hit by a jinx.

The fear felt like it tortured her guts, churning her stomach in tense cramps, engulfing her conscience, knocking all other thoughts aside, overwhelming her.

However, most of all, this strange fear she felt was making her calm and that was what scared Tonks the very most, more than any other thought now.

The fear sat quietly, eroding the person she was born to be. What started as a horrible contortion of her stomach as it churned, twisting her guts into intense cramps, quickly became a feeling of being smothered by an invisible hand. Her breathing became still and yet somehow erratic, deep.

She fought it. She fought the horrible feeling as her body writhed to be free or shut down completely, and that she could not let it happen to her.

Tonks had made a promise to Remus on their wedding night that she would never leave him, not in their lifetime, or what followed after their bodies departed this physical realm, and she aimed to keep that promise, no matter how badly it hurt. The paralyzing hurt spread through her body like icy metal.

She clenched her fists and struggled to open her eyes and penetrate through the black hazy mist that gathered as dots in her closed eyes and line of sight. Her throat closed at the threat of letting out an agonized scream that she knew would not help Remus, her jawline locked and became tightly closed.

Fire in the form of water stung at her eyes as tears pricked and gathered at the corner of her vision, threatening their attack. Tonks crunched her teeth over her lip harder than she ever had, and she felt the metallic taste of iron linger on her tongue as she realized salty, warm blood was filling her mouth.

Tonks was finding this challenge of attempting to pull herself from this groggy stupor demanding, one she was not entirely sure she possessed the strength left within to carry it out. Everything felt so damned heavy, heavier than anything she had ever experienced before in her life. What but she wouldn't give to just…sleep. To lay like this in Remus's arms and rest, for she was tired, in both body and soul, everything ached and hurt like never before.

Though again, a muffled, choking sob, a cry of sorrow that belonged to her husband wracked through her hazy mind, forcing her to return to her present situation of finding some way to let Remus know that she was alive.

Tonks tentatively opened her eyes, though not without great difficulty, and almost wished that she hadn't, as a swell of nausea washed over her entire body so suddenly that she was half-tempted to close her eyes again and wait for it to pass, but she couldn't, and her sight cleared enough to make out his face.

And Remus was… _crying_. Her husband sobbed into her chest unceasingly, hands clutching around her middle, and his pale face was bent over, a lock of short light brown hair had fallen from its place behind his ear.

It had fallen into his eyes in such a way that it was preventing her husband from seeing that his wife had woken up. Hard, grief-wracked sobs shook his frame so violently that Tonks had no idea what to do, let alone say.

She struggled to move even a fraction of an inch but found her body was so heavy and sore that she quickly abandoned all hope of that idea.

Tonks could do nothing but lay there in silence, listening as he rocked her slowly in his arms as his tears soaked her collarbone. A tiny lapse let him pull away, blinking lashes heavy with his tears, before he just…collapsed again, her husband's howls of misery worsening. The pain must have come in waves, minutes of sobbing broken apart by short pauses for recovering breaths, before hurling him back into the outstretched arms of his grief. A blast of nausea made her skin shiver and left a horrible ringing on her ear as he whispered in her ear.

"I—I'm so _sorry_! This is…all my fault….my fault…" he sobbed. "I…I did not mean this. For any of this, Dora. I…what have I done, _what have I done_ , just _look_ at you…" Her husband's words escaped his lips as a wailing sob, full of self-hatred. His voice sounded muffled as if Remus were speaking to her underwater. Beads of sweat began to form and glitter on her browbone, and gathering enough strength on her throat, she attempted to speak, though when she tried, her tongue felt thick and heavy and when Tonks tried to say Remus's name, it felt as though there was a gag on her mouth, and her tongue refused his name's release from her lips.

 _Not your fault. Not your fault. Not. Your. Fault!_ Tonks tried to scream it at him, anything to let him know she was alive.

But she couldn't even manage a simple squeak or a finger twitch to alert her husband of her presence. Her vision blurred as she struggled to focus on the features of Remus's face. Heat dragged in spasms across her body, wave after wave, white-hot, searing pain, hotter than any branding iron or dragon flame as it licked up the entire right side of her body and ended at her neck.

Her vision continued to blur, and it felt like the forest around the two of them was revolving. Tonks could not even hear her husband's words anymore, just the awful, thick stillness and the ringing in her own eardrums.

Tonks just wanted it to stop. Her stomach heaved a pressure that she was so unfamiliar with, and for a moment, she thought she might vomit.

Molly had warned her to expect morning sickness as her pregnancy progressed, but this wave of nausea that wracked her maimed form was entirely different, like nothing she'd ever felt before, but by some miracle, some act of Merlin Himself, she swallowed down the bitter, acidic stomach bile that had crept its way up her esophagus and had settled, lingering upon her tongue.

By some miracle, Tonks never screamed once. Not a sound escaped her lips as this horrible agony, this wretched, eternal, burning fire wracked her body, though she wished that it would. Anything to make a sound. Anything.

 _To let him know I'm alive_. So consumed by distress and the white-hot pain that seared up her body in waves, that she missed her husband's words.

Though what followed, she was, by some miracle, able to make out.

"I…love you, Dora." His words left his lips as a hoarse, weak whisper.

Suddenly, it felt as though a terrible weight had lifted from her shoulders as if an overly large child had just leaped off them after a satisfying piggyback ride. Her brain tingled like a hand that had been sat on for too long.

Happy is what Tonks felt for Remus any time her husband walked in through the front door of their cottage. When she knew for the rest of the evening, her fellow Order member, was all his. It wasn't that he was all fireworks and chatter. Most nights he was his usual self. Quiet and reserved, unwinding after a busy day on guard duty or dealing with Sirius Black's antics.

Just being near him lit Tonks up from the inside, giving her a serenity, she could never know without him being close. It was like the breaths she took weren't full whenever Remus was away, like the smiles she felt her mouth form were…incomplete somehow. Just lying next to him in his arms on their bed was her favorite place in the world. It was Remus that created the warmth in her soul, him that filled Tonks full to the brim with saturated love and kept the fire burning in her eyes. If that wasn't happiness, Tonks didn't know what was.

So, she would let it be her own definition, the one she kept with her, close to her heart. _Always_.

The moment her husband had uttered those words, it felt as though the immense white-hot pain that wracked through her body in waves no longer mattered. It wasn't often her husband spoke those three precious words to her.

Oh, she could tell that he meant it, it was in the little gestures in the morning. Kisses in the morning in the evening, how he would get this look whenever they spent a night in each other's arms after, how he seemed to sink into a peaceful state of serenity when she fell asleep in his arms.

"Till death do us part" was morbid to Tonks. She wanted the fairy tale and, in her eyes, however unorthodox their relationship, she had it. Dora wanted "and they lived happily ever after." What's wrong with that? Why start a life of love by thinking about death? Tonks chose to believe that her husband was her soulmate, that the two of them will always be together in this life and beyond. Doesn't love to endure forever? Wasn't that how the sayings went?

And then, before she even had a chance to open her eyes further, let alone try to respond to his sweet, cherished confession with a statement of her own, Tonks felt something warm and slightly coarse, and feather-light press itself against her lips. Instantly, an incredible heat spiraled through her entire system and her eyes flung wide open of their own accord despite the heaviness behind her lids, and it felt as though her mind had come back to life at his words, filling her body, invigorating her, giving her a new sense of purpose.

The pain in her neck, side, and her wrist were barely noticeable. Nothing else mattered except for his words and the feeling of his lips pressed against hers, his fingertips leaving sparks of flames in their wake as he clutched onto her middle, the heat spreading from her lips to the very edges of her toes.

Somehow, by a miracle of Merlin, though it was hoarse and rough and barely audible, her voice (finally) decided to cooperate and come back to her.

"I…love you too, Remus."

* * *

Lupin's eyes, which had been closed, immediately flew open at the sound of his wife's sweet, shy, and quiet voice wafting to his ears. It…she was…she was _alive_. It couldn't be. She had been so lifeless, so cold, pale as the shrouded figure of Death itself. This…this had to be a dream. A cruel dream.

"S—say again, Dora? Can you…you're alive, oh thank Merlin! Can you hear me?" he demanded.

"Y—yes. I—I can…hear you…" she whispered hoarsely. She squirmed in his grip as he slowly raised his free hand and made to bring to one of her still too ghostly white cheeks. She had lost a lot of blood and needed a Healer's care. Remus could hardly believe it. That all Remus was seeing nothing than his own distraught mind collapsing in on itself. Yet, how on earth could it? Her gray eyes, still half-lidded, as if lacking the strength to open fully, flickered slowly between his outstretched hand and his face. She moved!

"Oh, thank Merlin!" he breathed, burying his face in her hair. And while her eyes were barely open and covered by some hazy cloud, whether it be exhaustion or pain (likely a combination of the two) they still contained just a brief flicker of light. Some small amount of sassiness and wit remained in those eerily haunting gray eyes of hers.

"I'm proud of you," she whispered, a wry little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I thought maybe you'd…"

The sound she made was barely audible and had he not been hanging onto her every movement; he would have never heard her speak such sweet words. Her voice came out as scratchy and hoarse, cracking horribly as she tried to speak further. Remus's eyes widened in shock. This only solidified what his mind was already barely trying to accept. His beloved wife was _alive_.

Tonks was not dead, she was here in his arms, with him.

A choked half sob, a half gasp of awe tore from his chest, wracking his form in a wave of relief and joy. Renewed tears began to flow down his face. Slowly, as if in a dream, Remus took his raised hand and gently pressed his palm to her cheek. It was not cold as it had been not a moment ago, some warmth had returned to her skin. Her eyes, at that moment, misted over and began to close, a small shuttering breath escaping her as she did so. A wave of panic suddenly hit him at her reaction to his touch and he felt ice flood his veins instantly.

"No! Tonks. Don't go to sleep, honey! Stay awake for me, sweetheart, can you stay awake?" He carefully shifted her in his arms, bringing her upper body towards him, cradling her left hand in his own hand, bringing the hand that now wore her soon-to-be wedding band up to his cheek. He carefully settled her against his shoulder and the crook of his arm, allowing her to lean against him for support while also letting her sit somewhat upright. He gently gave her a firm shake. Nothing to cause any unnecessary pain, but enough to rouse her from drowsiness.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart! Don't go to sleep! You—you have to stay awake, love!" Instantly, her eyes reopened, yet they still could not manage to open fully. Remus realized in that horrible moment that although Tonks was not yet gone, she was fading. She barely had any strength left, hardly enough to keep her eyes open let alone try and speak to him.

Risking a quick glance, he scanned her for her injuries, remembering that she had been dealt several hard blows.

Her left wrist was broken in two places. There was a shallow, long cut on the other side of her neck, just above her collarbone. There was also a slightly deeper gash on her cheek, though not as open as the one upon her neck and several bruises marred her delicate ghostly white skin on her arms.

Yet, none of these could compare to the injury on her neck. The bite wound. The ripped, grotesque flesh. By Merlin's beard, what he had done!

Remus dared not unravel the makeshift bandage that was clearly binding the wound and preventing it from seeping festering blood. Despite this, the crucial life essence had seeped through and stained the already red fabric of the bandage a deep, dark crimson. He knew not how deep the wound went or its width, but what he did know was that removing that bandage was out of the question right now.

Doing so would surely result in massive blood loss, and…he couldn't bring himself to think further. He needed help. Remus needed help. If he didn't find a solution fast, she was truly going to…Again, he feared the word that came into his thoughts, but he pushed his fear away. He needed to get a grip on his emotions or else he was going to cause her to panic.

"Tonks?" he whispered gently, his voice far too low, and trying to keep the fear out of his tones. "Dora? Sweetheart? Can you hear me?"

His wife lifted her head ever so slightly so that her half-open, misty gray eyes that resembled the last ashes of a dying wildfire, smoke on the breeze, were gazing up at him. She offered him a tiny nod, yet he could see the sheer amount of effort it took for her to do so. She nearly had little to no strength left in her at all. Swallowing the lump forming in the back of his throat, Remus nodded stiffly back and sucked in a deep breath. "Don't," he pleaded shakily, his voice cracking in the process. He inwardly flinched, his voice sounded far too desperate. "Don't do that, darling. _Please_."

"Don't do what?" she whispered, wincing at the harshness of his tone.

"Don't go to sleep," he commanded harshly. "Fight it." Giving himself a shake to steel his nerves, Remus raised his head and looked around. He saw no sign of Sirius or anybody else that lived in their village. His best friend was absent, but that was more a relief than anything else. He knew that he could not do this on his own. Where was more help? Remus feared that if he tried to move Tonks any more than he already had, he would end up causing more harm than good.

"Sirius." The one Remus could trust above all else to help Tonks.

He would have some idea of what to do for her. Anything Remus was incapable of doing; Sirius had proven that he could. Remus looked down at Tonks (who was still resting limply against his shoulder, still fighting to keep her eyes open and stay awake.) He reached up a finger and gently stroked her cheek, not caring that her blood stained the interior of his palm, brushing a wisp of stray hair back behind her ear. "Dora?" he asked softly, his voice just a little bit stronger this time.

"Mmm," she mumbled incoherently, keeping her eyes still closed.

"I need you to stay awake, Tonks. For me. Nod if you understand."

She blinked, recognition and awareness returning to her eyes, which instantly sought his own. She blinked again, this time much more slowly and exhaled heavily. "Yes, I hear you," she breathed, her voice still hoarse and weak. Remus felt his heart give a painful lurch at the sound. It resembled nothing like her beautiful, gentle tones.

However, he took the hand that rested against her cheek and threaded it through her hair, trying to give her as much comfort as he was able.

At the sudden and unexpected action, Tonks opened her eyes once more and this time, they were a bit wider than before. Wide and full of affection. Her expression softened a little bit. A tiny ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. At her gentle expression, he felt his heart hitch again, but this was a different feeling than the ones from before. He began to feel an immense sense of relief, that she was alive. That while this was entirely his fault, what had happened to her, there was the small flickering ember flame of hope that welled in his chest that his wife might one day forgive him.

Yet, as Remus opened his mouth to speak, Tonks's eyes suddenly flew wide open and a deep, pain-ridden cry tore from her lips.

Her body gave a hard shudder, her eyes glazed over as she clenched her eyes tightly shut, shielding them from his view. She cried out and released a small groan and turned her head to the side, eyes clenched tightly shut and teeth ground in the effort to keep in her scream of pain. Whatever amount of pain she was in, it was clearly too taxing and far too much. His eyes widened in shock as her cheek fell against his shoulder and her body tensed as a wave of pain hit. "Dora? What's wrong?" Remus immediately forwent any amount of calm. Instead, raw panic hit him faster than ever before, and this time, he did not hesitate. The arm that was supporting her shoulders tightened instantaneously while his other shot underneath her knees, gripping her lower thigh tightly as if to ground himself. "No! No, no, don't…don't go to sleep!"

She was still conscious, he could tell, though her breathing had quickened, and her eyes moved rapidly from under their lids, which were squeezed tightly as if to somehow bar away whatever pains she felt. Tonks was in far too much pain for him to help and he was far too panicked and emotionally compromised to be of any use. He didn't know what to do.

What could he do? There had to be something…

Suddenly, Remus felt that Tonks needed to be set upon something stable. Holding her like he was, was probably causing her wounds to flex and become agitated and inflamed. For all he knew, he had rubbed an injury the wrong way and had caused the bout of pain that Tonks was now desperately trying to fight off with all her strength. With the utmost care, he gently lowered her to the forest floor, making sure that he was mindful of her injuries. Once she was settled, he made to pull away, yet as he did so, one of Tonks's hands caught hold of two of his fingers on his right hand, refusing to let go. His hand was far too large for hers, so two fingers were about as much as she could wrap her hand around, yet her grip was stronger than he had anticipated, almost as strong as a man's.

He winced slightly as they tightened further upon his fingers, feeling the amount of pain she must be in for her to inflict such strength.

Remus lifted his free hand to her brow and wiped away the beads of sweat that were accumulating there. Her face, which had regained a bit of color, was pale again, but thankfully, not as white as she had been before.

She kept her eyes clenched tightly shut, in far too much pain to open them and look at him. Small tears began to flow from the corners of her eyes. His heart gave another painful lurch at the sight of his sweet wife in so much agony. She was suffering so greatly, yet there was nothing within his power to stop this. He couldn't stop his own tears from escaping as a sob of his own escaped past his lips.

Despair began to take hold of him completely. It was hopeless! There was nothing he could do for her, and he hated this! His wife and love of his life in this life and the next was fading right before his eyes and he could not seem to be able to keep himself calm enough to aid her. It would have been better if she had passed before now, to not suffer like this.

This was agony for her! What had he done to her?! All of this was all _his_ fault. He bent over her, trying so hard to get his voice to work, to speak words of comfort to her to ease her pain, yet nothing but choked sobs and tears came forth. His voice would not come to him. So, he continued to stroke her hair gently, wanting nothing more than to pick her up and hold her in his arms and never let her go, but there was the simple matter of any broken bones she might have, and he worried that if he tried, it would do more harm than good for Tonks.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was caused even more pain and damage than he had already done.

Until he got her to St. Mungo's, neither of them would know the true extent of the damage. Then it dawned on him. Something he had forgotten. Mustering every bit of strength and control he could manage; he lifted his head towards the edge of the woods wherever Sirius had disappeared to and shouted desperately at the top of his lungs.

" **SIRIUS**!" he roared. He needed help, and fast, or Tonks wouldn't live.

His shaking hand found its way to the curve of her waist and settled there. Just last night, he'd dreamed of his wife on a cold snowy morning in the woods in their village. Dora was standing before him, with her hair a lovely shade of maroon pink against the ghostly dead trees, vibrant against the pristine white snow. Lupin could remember calling out to her once, twice, a third time, and then his wife turned slightly at the waist, a honey-sweet dazzlingly white smile etched on her lips. His wife had such a sweet smile, Remus was sure no other held such a smile in this world.

The way Dora's lips lifted upward. The way her one dimple crinkled. The way her teeth are perfectly aligned. The warm glow her happiness gives. Her smile was every bit the ray of sunshine he'd always known it to be. There was something about the way Dora smiled; the way butterflies seemed to escape from the pit of her stomach and the way the sun had somehow toppled down from the sky and made a home right there in her pure and gentle heart.

His wife had the kind of soft smile that made him feel happy to be alive and just that little bit more human.

In his dream, his wife greeted him without language, no need to speak, for her eyes communicated a worthy enough story of their love without her having to utter a single word, and she outstretched her hand for him to take, waiting, the other resting gently on the bulge on her stomach. _But…but oh Merlin…_

Lupin blinked, forcing his mind to return to his harsh reality and his grip on his wife's fading form tightened even more. He clenched his eyes shut and blinked back briny tears.

_…What have I done?_


	3. Unexpected News

**CHAPTER THREE**

Sirius practically felt his ears perk up at the sound of Moony calling his name so desperately, his normally reserved and quiet tones laced to the brim with fear and trepidation, and the second he'd returned from alerting the others, particularly Tonks' parents and Mad-Eye Moody, he felt his posture stiffen and become rigid as he stood up straighter. He was no Wolf like Remus (and now Tonks) was, though he still considered himself to have a keen sense of hearing, much like he did whenever he reverted to his Animagus form and went by Padfoot.

He could practically feel his face drain of color, the shock clear on his face. Sirius needed no mirror to see it. "Remus," he murmured.

Sirius felt himself launch into a fully-fledged sprint towards the woods that rested at the back of Moony and his cousin's simple cottage.

The plea from Moony came a second time, desperate, terrified. The blood drained from Sirius's face and before he was even aware of making a conscious decision, his legs pounded furiously on the uneven muddy track, his ears straining for more sounds, more clues where it had come from. Sirius had no bloody clue as to what to do when he got there, just that he had to get there, and fast, or else Tonks was in danger.

Sirius finally found them in the forest clearing, just where he'd left the pair of them, and was met with a sight that very nearly sent him spiraling into a fully-fledged breakdown, tears, and all, himself. But…

 _Tonks is alive_ , he thought and breathed an audible sigh of relief. Her breast rose and fell heavily, and every once in a while, her body would give off a twitch, and her eyelids fluttered, and she seemed to be wholly focused and intent on keeping her gaze fixated on poor Lupin.

She would occasionally let out a moan or a gasp of pain, that was the next thing Sirius noticed, and it hit him squarely in the chest, as though he'd been hit by a Knockback Jinx that Tonks was still alive.

Immediately, he bolted forward and knelt at Moony's side, lowering his body into a crouch at Tonks' free side not currently clutched in a tight embrace by Moony, and it was only when Sirius craned his neck forward for a better look at her pain-racked form did Padfoot truly get a good look at Moony's physical state. Merlin's beard…

Lupin was pale, paler than he'd ever seen his best friend after coming down off a transformation, and Sirius could not help but wonder if poor Moony was about to pass the hell out. His light brown hair seemed to create such a contrast against his ashen, clammy skin, and dried tear tracts could be seen on his cheeks. His hand not currently clutching onto Tonks's, whose own hand was wrapped so tightly around his like a lifeline, was trembling like mad and curled into a fist to prevent himself from striking out at something (most likely himself, if Padfoot knew Moony) in anger.

It was a bloody miracle that Tonks had managed to survive such a vicious mauling, accident though it was. _Merlin save her_ , he thought and ground his teeth in anger at her condition. The wound at her neck appeared to be the one that would prove to be the most problematic at healing, and would have otherwise proven fatal to Muggles, but not her.

Though the simple fact remained that, if they did not get her medical attention, and fast, there was a slim chance she wouldn't survive.

Sirius quickly returned his attention towards his cousin, whose eyelids had fluttered open and she offered him a weak smile in return, and he attempted to return it, though he could feel his cheeks' reluctance to be molded falsely. They simply were not having any part of it now.

"We _need_ to get you to St. Mungo's, Tonks," Sirius spoke quietly, more to Remus than Tonks. "Y—you're going to be all right. I promise."

She smiled, though it looked like even just that effort was causing her pain. "You c—can't…get rid of me…that easily," she whispered weakly. "I…" Tonks looked towards Remus and made a move to lift a trembling hand to caress his cheek, but he caught her hand in mid-air and clutched onto it. "Rem, I—th—there's something…have to tell you…can't…wait…"

"You're _hurt_ , Dora," Remus protested, and Sirius flinched, hearing the crack and dip in his best friend's voice was almost too much to bear. "Y—you shouldn't be trying to speak, sweetheart. Save your energy. I—I promise you're going to be all right, love. I'm right here."

Tonks blinked rapidly in response, though her eyelids felt heavy, and the next thing she knew, she was being gingerly lifted to her feet by a pair of strong hands that were much too steady to belong to her husband, given how badly his entire form was practically shaking, and she looked up.

"Sirius," she breathed, a sigh of relief escaping her lips, though even just uttering his name hurt, and she did not protest as she felt her cousin drape one of her arms over his shoulder and support most of her weight.

Instead, Tonks decided the smart thing to do would be to focus on controlling her breathing now that Sirius had ripped a section of his cloak to use as a makeshift tourniquet to stop the bleeding of her neck. She took deep, slow breaths and kept her mind clear of most thought. It was pretty much the only way that Tonks could find to block out the agony that her body was in and keep herself from writhing in pain.

Tonks stifled a moan from escaping her lips as she bit the wall of her cheek as she felt the pads of Sirius's fingertips accidentally graze against where Lupin's teeth in his fully-fledged form as the Wolf, bit the skin of her neck and had taken a good chunk of her with him when he did, though hopefully, the Healers at St. Mungo's would be able to patch her up good as news. She clenched her eyes shut, needing, and wanting nothing more than to empty her thoughts, focus on nothing, and yet…

Everything. Her husband's face, Sirius's, everything but the pain. She felt Sirius's almost strong, ironclad grip on her waist tighten, and she felt Remus tightly gripping onto her free hand towards her right. Damn.

But Merlin Above Almighty, this really hurt! Tonks let out a cry of pain as she felt her husband's hand give hers a small squeeze as if to relay whatever form of menial comfort he could provide his wife in her agonized state. "Rem," she whispered hoarsely, not sure where this was coming from. "I—I…my news i—it can't wait, love. I need to…we're… We're…"

Tonks bit down on her bottom lip as another pain spasm wracked its way through her body, sending white-hot flares of agony as lightning jolts up and down her spine as Sirius and Remus helped her to her feet to walk, and Lupin thought it a miracle that she could even stand on her own two feet, though he quickly relented once Tonks's knees began to buckle beneath her as she lacked the strength to stand. Tonks drew in a sharp breath that pained her lungs.

"We're going to have a baby," Tonks whispered hoarsely. "I…I'm _pregnant_ , Rem. A few weeks along."

It was clear to Sirius that as he had to rush forward to catch her as Lupin staggered backward at the emotional revelation of her news that this was not something that either one of them had planned for, really. The two of them had never discussed it, given the nature of Remus's condition. It had just sort of… _happened_. Remus, Tonks knew, would want to know when, how long, and why she'd waited to tell him.

Oh, she knew _when_ it happened of course. A few weeks ago, when he'd taken her for a moonlight stroll in the forest when neither one of them could sleep, about five days after his latest coming off the full moon cycle, when her husband's wolfish senses were heightened.

How just one kiss seated on the ground he'd brought so his wife wouldn't have to sit amongst the pile of fallen leaves in the dirt had led to such a wonderful night of love and passion, and now, here she was, viciously mauled and attacked by the Beast within Remus, though it was _not_ his fault, though Tonks could tell by just one look he thought it was.

Almost immediately, as she watched Remus's face pale, she regretted sharing her news. Oh, but _Merlin's_ _Beard_ , she _never_ should have said. She—she should have waited until she was healed until Rem was in a better state of mind to process this news, but she hadn't thought.

Tonks watched, heartbroken, as Lupin's face fell and became forlorn, almost angry with her. In that instant, his pale skin greyed, his mouth hung open slightly with his lips parted in shock and his light brown eyes were wide with horror and disbelief as far as they could possibly go.

Remus took on sort of a hen-pecked look. His shoulders hunched together underneath Sirius's borrowed cloak, like he was trying to disappear inside of himself, and how he looked as though Remus wished for nothing more than the forest floor to open up a hole beneath him and swallow him whole. Even his light brown eyes flecked with bits of gold at their edges, a side-effect of his (and now hers, she supposed) monthly transformations looked wildly around the forest, at Sirius, for help.

Anywhere but at his wife, in a dazed panic. The thoughts rapidly accelerated inside Lupin's head as he seized on tufts of his light brown hair and tugged on a lock of his bangs in anguish, like Tonks, with the help of Sirius as one of her arms was draped over his shoulder as Padfoot silently led the pair of them out of the forest, fully prepared to undergo Side-Along Apparition with Tonks, considering she was in no state to go on her own, as his brain struggled to process his wife's news. _How_?!

The weight of his wife's words hit Remus like an errant Knockback Jinx that had collided squarely against his chest and he let out a groan and carded his fingers, entangling them, sticky in every which way through his tuft of light brown hair, not caring his palms were stained crimson with his wife's blood.

The thought hadn't even crossed his mind a few nights ago, a few weeks ago, or even this morning. The shock he felt quickly gave way to an acute sense of overwhelming, powerful guilt, and he berated himself for what he had allowed happening to Nymphadora.

Remus felt himself rub his face in frustration and took a fumbling step back and almost stepped over a gnarled, twisted tree root in the process. He wrung his hands together and braced himself against the immense waves of guilt that washed over him in succession, one right after the other.

How unfair was it that such a wonderful night of love and passion could be followed by these awful feelings of uncertainty and dread?

How could he have allowed this to _happen_? Remus knew he ought to say something—anything—but… what on earth could he say?

Remus felt devastated as a flicker of emotions darted through his darkening brown eyes in anger and disgust. Yes, total disgust with himself.

What he _was_. What he had _done_ to his soulmate, the woman that he loved, and, if it were true, the mother of their unborn child in nine months, and Remus knew that Dora could see every single one in his eyes. They ranged from elation at the thought of the two of them becoming parents, to self-loathing and disgust at what he had done, the precarious position that he had every part in putting his wife in (and to a lesser extent, himself), and the fact that he may have passed on their now shared lycanthropic condition to an innocent baby, a child, and now, Remus knew that he really _was_ a monster. A beast. Every bit a Wolf.

He had somehow allowed this to happen, and it was _his_ fault.

"Remus?" Tonks's shy, uncertain voice was laced to the brim with hesitation as her sweet voice wafted towards his eardrums, though she sounded distant, muffled as if underwater and all he heard was ringing.

There was a horrible distance in Lupin's eyes as he took a few steps backward as with the help of Sirius, Tonks approached him gingerly, her uninjured hand outstretched as if to provide him some small solace.

Tonks visibly flinched as she heard her husband swear under his breath as his head whiplashed sharply back around to regard her angrily.

His brilliant light brown eyes now held such a deadness, a horrible stillness, glossy and glazed over with unshed, glistening tears, that poor Tonks could hardly bear it, and when Remus did finally find his voice, it came out as thin and distant. "Wh— _what_? Are you sure? No, it didn't, y—you're wrong, there's…there's a test, you can perform a charm or something. "Th—that's not possible, Dora. I don't know…how, Dora?"

His throat hollowed and constricted, cutting off the air to his passageways. Poor Remus felt like his lungs simply could not get enough air, and if it weren't for him getting the bright idea to rest his back against the twisted trunk of an old pine tree, he surely would have collapsed.

"How, Dora?" he begged pitifully, biting the wall of his cheek.

To his dismay, Tonks shrugged, blinking back briny tears. "I—it's just happened. We should…we should be happy about this, Remus. Talk to me."

Remus struggled to find his voice, to speak words of love and reassurance and comfort to her, to tell her that it was going to be all right, but…

They wouldn't come. Any time he tried to open his mouth to speak, all that came out was a strangled attempt at speech. By Merlin, what the hell had he done?

He _never_ should have allowed this to happen. He should have…they should have been more careful. He glanced up at his wife.

One glance was more than enough.

The look of anguish and heartbreak in those gray eyes was entirely too much for him to bear, and he sharply turned away his head in anger, bowing his head, letting that one stubborn lock of dark hair fall into his eyes, effectively shielding her from his line of sight.

If there was ever a time when he did not wish to look at her, it was now.

Remus had a look in his eyes that Tonks had seen before, but not on him, on another living person, for that matter. It's the look she had often seen of the exotic animals, illegal ones, that the Aurors confiscated sometimes whenever they raided a suspected Death Eater's home for evidence when they were captured and brought in to be tamed, wild, not even knowing what people are. It did not belong on her husband's face and it scared her. He was the one who always knew what to do.

What to say, how to make her feel better. She watched, dismayed, as he buried his head in his gloved hands and let out a horrible, guttural roar from the back of his throat. "How could we have let this happen, Dora?" he bellowed, fuming.

"I…" Her voice cracked and faltered as she realized he wasn't happy with her. "I don't understand, Remus," she whispered. "Just…just calm down. Talk to me."

"Do you—do you honestly think that I could love a child that I sired?" he shouted, his face draining of color the angrier he got as he felt his head whiplash sharply upwards to regard his wife. "What if it…what if it's…like _me_? Like _us_ now, since you're like me now, Tonks," he growled, and that was the moment that Tonks felt her heartbreak. "To pass our condition onto an innocent child is unfair, Dora! Cruel and unfair. Cruelly unfair!" he bellowed, looking positively livid and beside himself.

"I wouldn't love it any less if it were, Remus, i—it's a risk we're going to have to take. Molly, she…she says that I'm about a month in. You're just going to have to trust me when I tell you that we'll be wonderful parents to this child a—and any others that Merlin might see fit to bless us with," she whispered softly, reaching up a trembling hand to caress his cheek, only for him to seize her wrist and grip it tight rather violently. "Wh—what are you doing, sweetheart?" she squeaked, swallowing hard past the lump forming in her throat, gray eyes wide with fear.

Never once had her husband laid a hand on her in anger, not like this… The laughter that had been in his eyes only just yesterday when she'd surprised him with his favorite breakfast after a tough night was gone. His customary warmth gone faster than Sirius whenever someone brought the damned man food. Even his focus was somewhere on the tree behind Sirius and Tonks' heads as if Tonks had become invisible to Remus or he could not bear to see her at all.

She had crossed some invisible line, offended his sensibilities, by sharing in her news so suddenly after her attack, and it was all her fault. Tonks swallowed hard past the lump forming in her throat, thinking that maybe it would be better if she took matters into her own hands.

Clearly, judging by the rather violent way her husband had reacted, he did not want this baby. Tonks had seen Remus do this to others before, mostly to Sirius or Mundungus Fletcher whenever the prickly pair of men were getting on his nerves, sometimes even Harry Potter, but _never_ to her. Tonks had thought their bond immune. But now, as the young witch's blood drained from her face and her heart hammered erratically inside of her chest, she knew that she had been mistaken in that regard.

Tonks was never afraid of Remus's anger when it came as fire, for that burnt out hot and fast and was over in minutes. But this…Tonks was deathly afraid of her husband's ice. It coated him like a cold winter's frost, it had built a hardened wall around his heart, that same method that had protected him from the torments of his youth and years of abuse at being forced to suffer such a hard life with the nature of his condition.

She cursed internally, thumping her hand to her forehead, and dragging it alongside the side of her face in exasperation. What the bloody hell had she been _thinking_? Tonks knew better than this, that she should have waited. Now was _not_ the time.

"I…" Tonks bit her lip, unsure exactly how to phrase this next part.

One quick glance into her husband's brown eyes, which were currently flashing in anger was enough for the married young woman to save that topic of conversation for later, perhaps when he had calmed down and had time to process the news she had revealed. Suddenly, Tonks felt incredibly guilty.

He had not _asked_ for this, and she had never really outright asked Remus if this was even something that he wanted. There were methods to remedy this if it weren't a desire of his, but she hoped that in time, Remus would change his mind. His anger would be the one thing that could isolate him from his new family, from his friends—Sirius, Harry, Molly, Arthur, and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.

The young woman let out a haggard sigh, turning away from her husband and blinked back salty tears, fighting to quell the massive lump in her throat. This had…not gone the way that she had hoped that it would. She furrowed her brows into a frown as she continued to study every aspect of her husband's face.

It was pointless to try to reach her love now, her well-meant words would bounce off the man as good as hard sleet. But she would have to see him later tonight once she was admitted to St. Mungo's, thaw his anger, return that loving spark to his eyes.

"Maybe later…we can…we can talk," she whispered, biting her bottom lip and sticking it out in a slight pout, feeling her nails dig into the skin of her palm as she clenched her hands into tight fists, not at all sure what to do with her hands.

When she turned around, her husband mutely nodded, though he still wouldn't look at her. Tonks let out an exhausted sigh, recognizing that perhaps he just needed the time on his own to process the fact that like it or not, they were going to be parents.

 _Unless_ … No, her conscience advised. _Don't_.

Without another word or so much as a glance backward to her husband, with the help of Sirius, who shot his best friend a withering glance as Lupin Disapparated on his heel to disappear into their house to change into a fresh set of clothes to meet them at St. Mungo's, Tonks pivoted on the heel of her boot and tightly clutched onto Sirius for support.

Maybe Molly could give her some advice on what to do.

The tears burst forth from her eyes like water from a dam once she had finally turned her back on her husband, spilling down her face, though they both knew he could hear it. Tonks exhaled a shaking breath as she looked towards the ceiling up at the moon once she and Sirius arrived in the front outside a lot of St. Mungo's, at the moonlight streaming in through the misty white clouds as if the light could somehow soothe her fractured spirit and her broken heart.

There was a strange feeling deep within the confines of her chest, a side effect of the constant fear that she lived with, constant stress of how the people treated her husband, and to a lesser extent, her ever since she had married the young werewolf and former Hogwarts DADA Professor.

Tonks heard her own sounds, like a distressed child, raw from the inside as she didn't even make it to the final step. She collapsed on the third to last step and buried her face in her hands, raw from the inside, wishing it would just stop.

His reaction had not been what she had hoped for, and now… _this_.

The mounting stress from the taxing events of the day took something out of the young woman that Remus's wife didn't even know she had left to give. That's the way it was when people were hard, Tonks guessed. It was like theft of the spirit, an injury no one else could see, but only if she let it. As much as she tried to hold it in, the pain came out like an uproar from her throat in the form of a silent scream.

"Come on," Sirius murmured gently, helping Tonks to her feet. "We'll take you inside. We've stalled long enough, cousin. Come on. Get you checked in and into a private ward of your own. The Healers need to have a look at your neck. The sooner we get you help, the faster you'll be back on your feet and kicking Moony's ass in no time, Tonks," he urged soothingly, draping his arm further around her shoulder and shifting to better support her weight.

The beads of water started falling down one after another, without a sign of stopping.

She hit the brick wall of St. Mungo's in frustration and tried to scream, but her voice was melted by the sound of the place. The muffled sobs wracked against her chest, and she was unaware that her husband stood directly behind her, listening to every single one of his wife's heart-wrenching cries of anguish, hating himself for what he had done to her.


	4. Solace over Tea

**A/N:** **Hello all! In this chapter, we have an introduction to a somewhat of major play, an OC, who is loosely based off of my sister appearance-wise, but names have been changed for privacy purposes. She also makes an appearance in my other AU Remadora Story, Worth the Risk, though her personality in that one is much more different than in this. I hope you enjoy! :)**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

The old, yellow, and brown leaves hustled in the wind, as the sounds of dead, weak trees, creak at every push the wind gave. It's the end of fall and the air is colder than an ice cube, as it climbs through the She-Wolf's sweater, through her jeans, to the bottom of her rigid, tensed spine.

Most of the leaves were already gone. And the sight of every living thing coming to an end in another two months depressed her.

The crumbling of the brown stiff leaves creates a home to many animals that need a place to hide during this time of empty sorrow.

The She-Wolf could feel the darkness drawing closer to her and pressing down, suffocating her slowly as she stepped carefully through the maze of woodland.

The densely packed trees loomed high above but remained still despite the chilled autumnal breeze that continued to waft toward the figure.

A young woman stepped from the shadows, thinking that the coldness made her numb, and she was grateful for her sweater as she shivered, clutching at herself as it was freezing. The young blonde woman at the age of thirty and still considered quite young wasn't necessarily beautiful in a classic way.

No flowing golden curls or ivory skin for her, no piercing eyes of green. Norah Jameson was shorter than average, and certainly almost as skinny as a catwalk model, given how much her own people practically starved, living off the land of their encampments and hunting what little provisions they could, but in her ordinariness, she was practically stunning. She kept her golden-blonde hair cut short in a pixie cut with long swooping bangs, highly arched brows framing an oval face.

The She-Wolf stood at a height of around 5'5, of average height, and was highly practiced at seduction. With her pale looks and high cheekbones and good jawline, it was all too simple for Norah. Nothing so pretty and innocent with those wide, blue doe-like eyes of hers could possibly ever harm you, yes?

Mostly, she just let the other people feel in charge, guiding the conversations she did have with unnoticed prompts. It was oftentimes only seconds before her new charge was jumping through hoops to please her. Her face alone could get her anything and anyone.

No one knew how Jameson would take a rejection because it had never happened to the Wolf. Something from within the young blonde radiated that rendered her irresistible to both genders, female, and male alike, Muggles, Wolves, Wizards, and Witches.

You name them, they liked her, most of the time, provided she was friendly to them. Norah Jameson blinked an almost frigid, frozen tear, thinking that, for a moment, she had stepped into a dream. She was pulled blindly into the dark forest by _him_. The _other_ Wolf.

Norah had heard its howl of misery, of pain, and unable to resist another calling of her own kind had wandered off in search of the noise, to see what she could do to help the poor He-Wolf, what he wanted, getting lost in the woods along the way. The canopy above her head let no moonlight through, there was no sound, which the blonde woman thought strange. All that could be heard was the susurration of the leaves in the gusty wind.

Looking up, she was momentarily transfixed by the myriad of fluttering October leaves, red, brown, and yellow in color, that danced in the high boughs of the trees, making a living, breathing roof above her head, it felt like. She was calmed, almost hypnotized, but the longer she stared, the more the leaves of the trees looked like watchful eyes staring back at Norah Jameson and the boughs seemed to draw closer, blocking the moonlight as if they were forming a cage around her.

_A cage_. Just the thought of a cage was enough to send her spine weak and her knees almost give out beneath her. Norah shuddered, a chill wafting down her spine, and she knew it was a tremor of fear, not from the cold.

There was nothing worse than being put in a _cage_ , and treated like a savage wild animal, a vicious _beast_ , a monster, which is what the wizarding world's precious Ministry of Magic wanted to do to people like her, and the He-Wolf.

This Remus Lupin that she had been on the literal hunt for the better part of a week. And now, if the screams of the She-Stranger that she had heard but less than forty-five minutes ago, the heart-wrenching cries of pain and agony were what had signaled the She-Wolf to head in this general direction, there was a strong possibility that the Lupin man's mate was now…like _them_.

_One of us_ , she thought, and her heart gave a painful little lurch.

_All the more reason to find him, and fast. Otherwise…he won't help us…_ The young She-Wolf paused, nostrils flaring, a hand on the bark of a nearby tree to steady herself as she closed her eyes, allowing her heightened senses to guide the way to him.

Norah came to a forest opening and thought she saw the Wolf, the one that her mate had told her to find, her instincts purring like a cat deep in the confines of her chest. Norah furrowed her delicately arched brows into a confused frown. The young blonde squeezed her slender form between trunks of dead trees, their bark sable, gnarled, and cracked. The woodland seemed ominously quiet, which the She-Wolf thought strange and rather eerie.

It frightened the thirty-year-old if she was being completely honest with herself, really.

The tittering's of weasels and insects, the strong gusts of autumnal breeze echoed within her wolfish ears, and her ears practically perked up as she strained to listen for more sounds.

Still, despite the several dozens of distractions that lay around her, Norah Jameson followed the He-Wolf's scent, sniffing at his familiar scent of pinewood as he reverted back to a Man, it was familiar, but not necessarily the one that roused the fire in her stomach. No. That feeling belonged specifically to _her_ mate.

Wes. Sweet Wes. Her mate, her husband. Their marriage a few years ago was forged in fire and all the stronger for it.

Their union would have been considered illegal these days, but considering she and Wes, and now, she supposed Mr. Remus Lupin and his She-Wolf, had married prior to the passing and signing of the Anti-Werewolf Legislation Act put into effect by Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, made marrying her kind illegal, punishable by a sentence in Azkaban Prison and a hefty fine of five _thousand_ Galleons if you were caught lying about registering under the Act, their love for one another was considered a criminal offense.

Any wolf-cubs the couples might sire would be walking proof of their lawlessness, which made it that much more pertinent for Norah Jameson to _meet_ with him, speak with him.

The thick stench of copper invaded her flared nostrils and Norah's stomach gave a painful little lurch as she stepped into the forest's clearing, near the edge of the woods, and gagged. If a wizard had pulled a finger by use of magical force and painted with it upon the crooked, muddy path beneath her shoes, the bloody trail couldn't be less obvious. It was already browning with those sickly matted clumps that could be fragments of what was once human, and Norah stifled a moan.

_Oh, Merlin's Beard_ , she thought, still fighting back swells of nausea at the stench of blood and ripped flesh, and clenched her eyes shut. _He—he attacked his own mate_. _I—I didn't want to believe it_.

The color swirled in her mind, making her feel light while curiosity aroused in her mind. Her glistening brown eyes followed the line, almost forcefully, like it had a mind of its own as some would say. The red liquid, however, was still flowing through the blades of grass and mud beneath her brown boots.

It was heading towards her, and every limb in her body screamed for her to run. She did not listen though.

She waited for it to touch the soles of her shoes and experienced the tiny tremors that shot through her. Norah's stomach lurched again at the sight of the gore that lay on the forest floor in front of her. She was sure she looked paler than a piece of parchment paper and lathered in sweat as tiny little droplets formed on her brow.

Norah felt sick just _looking_ at the grisly carnage in front of her. Nausea clawed at her throat, and she tried to force down the bile, but it was too late.

Chunks of partially digested chicken, her dinner from the other night prior to her transformation, spewed out of her coughing, choking mouth. Her stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything up and out. Her face was white and dripping bile, sweat, and tears. She lurched forward and sunk to her knees. The pungent stench invaded her nostrils and she heaved even though there was nothing left to go.

"Oh, Merlin, oh, God, what has he _done_? This…this changes _everything_ now," she moaned, shakily pulling her wand from her back jeans pocket, and silently conjuring a handkerchief and wiping at her mouth. Her throat felt sore from the stomach acid that was layering it and her mouth tasted of vomit.

There was no-one to fetch her a glass of water or offer to clean up the mess. The stomach-acid stench of vomit filled her nostrils. She surveyed the mess with watery eyes and her stomach dry-heaved again.

In the twenty-six years that she had spent life as a She-Wolf, having been turned by a male Wolf when she was only four years old, Norah Jameson had considered herself quite fortunate to never have witnessed anything quite this brutal before, really. But _this_?

This was…something else. Tightly squeezing her eyes shut, she shakily rose to her feet and had to shoot out an arm to catch herself, her fingers latching onto the nearest tree branch she could find as her equilibrium was still off-balance as she too was coming down off of her transformation tonight.

Though unlike poor Mr. Lupin, she had very clearly remembered to take her Wolfsbane Potion.

Norah clenched her jaw shut in anger, feeling her stomach heave again, though this time she swallowed the bile. Finally, she spotted what she hoped and prayed to the Light of Merlin Above was the Lupins' cottage, after weeks of searching for the man's whereabouts.

He and his pretty little lady wife who was now one of them, a She-Wolf, just like her, were perhaps one of two people in this world who might listen. _Who might help us_ , she thought, grinding her teeth in nervous anticipation.

_I've come this far already. Can't turn back_. The small, simple cottage crouched low into the grassy embankment, as though it were trying to hide, but the misshapen slate roof was too large to go unnoticed. Through the darkness, she could see the course, unevenly sized, grey stones that made up the walls.

As she got closer, the occasional flash of color - some blues, others green or brown- emerged from the grey stones that looked like eyes trying to steal a glimpse of the world. The small cottage was perched on the plain near the woods, so old and poor that it was surprising how it was still standing.

And yet it seemed alive and welcoming, a warm ribbon of smoke rising from the old chimney. The walls were made of the same wood and the roof was clearly stone, so old that it was a wonder how it did not yet cave in.

The cottage was the only thing there. There were no other houses around it, and this one would have looked abandoned if not for the smoke.

_He's hom_ e! _Oh, thank Merlin_. Norah shot a quick glance to the night sky above her, at the stars now that the clouds had moved beyond the moon. The weight lifted from her shoulders as if an overly large child had just leaped off her back after a long, satisfying piggyback ride.

Norah walked taller. Her stride somewhat lighter, more hopeful and as she strode towards the simple cottage, clenching and unclenching her hands into fists, she could not help but think that there was something about a fragment of warmth that could show the coldness who was boss.

At that moment, it was Norah's bones that rattled her thin, slender frame beneath her black knit pullover sweater. Norah walked through the tall reeds of grass-like she was wading through treacle tarts.

She heaved her legs against the cold breeze, against the pressure building on her chest and hitting her face like it intended to go right through her body. With her eyes squinted to let in just enough light to navigate as she held the tip of her wand aloft, murmuring, " _Lumos_!" she was rewarded with a blinding white ball of light.

Grateful for the small light now emanating from the tip of her wand that allowed her to see better, Norah sighed in relief.

Though she never once slackened her pace. Each step took her closer to the Lupin family cottage. Towards Remus. Towards a new future for herself and the rest of her people. If only she could convince the man to listen to her….

* * *

Back and forth he went. Back and forth in a repetitive motion.

Remus, Arthur pondered, had kept up this behavior for the better part of at least fifteen minutes. Lupin restlessly paced the wooden floorboards of his simple cottage back home. It had been three or four hours since he'd returned home from St. Mungo's, and his anxiety had spiked, and he was sure he could feel his blood pressure rise.

Tonks was sedated, the Healers at St. Mungo's had given her essence of Sleeping Draught and a Calming Draught to help her sleep and stay relaxed, and she would be out cold for the rest of the night, so there was no point in visiting her until the morning. She was stabilized, the wound at her neck bandaged, and would heal soon.

Though there would be permanent scarring on the column of her throat and on top of her hands, and of course, now her wolfish characteristics from now on, she was otherwise going to be fine, though the Healers could not say the same of their unborn baby, as Dora's case was the first that they had heard of in history and could not provide an honest or adequate answer when Remus had asked if there was a possibility of their baby being born with lycanthropic features of both its parents.

Merlin's Beard, but what had he _done_ to his wife? The guilt at what the Wolf within him had done sat not on his shoulders, but within the confines of his chest.

What he had done to Dora, made her…like him, and gotten her pregnant, he could not un-do, and the moment his harsh words had been spat at her more than spoken as he had reacted somewhat violently towards the news of her pregnancy, he could not take back.

But oh, Good Merlin Above in Heaven, he wanted to! Take it back, take it all back! He did not want her to _suffer_ like this!

Would she even _want_ to see him after the cold words he had spoken to her? What would he _say_? He had to digest this further. His wife was _pregnant_ with their son or daughter. Remus supposed that should have given him a newfound reason to live and fight, but how could he, if it were…like _them_?

It was supposed to be a joyous thing, becoming a father. Lupin flinched as a coil in his gut twisted and his stomach churned and lurched.

He should otherwise be in joyous tears at the prospect of having a son or daughter with the woman whom he loved more than life itself, but he found nothing to fear at Tonks's news other than dread and terror.

Tonks was _pregnant_ , he had _attacked_ her, and he'd _yelled_ at her! Merlin's Beard, what had he _done_?! Just that thought alone was enough to cause a heartbroken cry of utter agony and hopelessness at their now-shared predicament to rip from the confines of his chest, throat, and lips.

His hands found purchase in tufts of his light brown hair. Tears fell in rapid succession, and he was beyond the point of calming, and the soothing words of Molly, Arthur, and Sirius, who had immediately volunteered to stay with Remus for the night, made no difference at all as he collapsed into the chair at the kitchen table, hardly aware that Molly was pushing a cup of hot tea his way, Earl Gray, and quietly commanding him to drink, that he would feel better when he did.

A hitched breath, a relatively poor attempt to calm himself tore through his lips and he shook, rattled, as visions of her almost lifeless face filled his mind.

He took another deep breath, this one slightly more controlled, and raking his fingers through his hair to calm him down.

Lupin kept up this behavior until his hyperventilating and tears had slowed to a lesser extent, wiping a sweating palm across his face, as if to try to rid himself of the images, though it made no difference at all.

A lock of his light brown bangs tumbled in front of his eyesight, effectively shielding Molly and Arthur and Sirius from his line of sight. Remus shook his head and carded back his lock of hair, only for it to fall into his right eye once again.

No matter what, how short he kept his hair, how often Molly or Dora trimmed it for him, it never ceased to annoy him.

He heard himself growl, yes, _a growl_ in frustration and irritation and angrily tucked back the lock of hair off his forehead, all the while averting their gazes.

Molly, Arthur, and Sirius were seated on the opposite side of the table, staring at Remus Lupin with slightly bulging, disbelieving eyes as if the hatred behind them was about to burst forth, though their animosity was not directed towards the outside, which was where Sirius's gaze had been momentarily fixed as the three of them had heard a scuffling sound.

Though their attention was quickly diverted back to Remus, who had, by all accounts and purposes, made his life that much harder.

Molly, in particular, along with Sirius, was the most displeased, and she was the first to break the heavy, uncomfortable silence that lingered in the air like a deadly poison, threatening to choke the very life from their lungs.

"Why did you yell at Nymphadora, Remus? We've said all along, Arthur and I, that you're taking a ridiculous stance on this. There's no reason why you and Tonks won't make wonderful parents. The way that you spoke to her back there was _inexcusable_ , and I'd never have believed it of you. You _abandoned_ Tonks when she needs you the most. _Why_?" Molly shook her head, looking immensely disappointed with Remus, her ginger, shoulder-length curls bouncing as she did so. "You should not have spoken to your wife as you did. She was _so_ _excited_ and over the moon to tell you, and…now… _this_ ," she snapped angrily. "What will you do now, Remus? Hmm?"

Arthur looked towards his wife, feeling somewhat startled, rattled, actually.

Molly's voice sounded somewhat far away, and yet, there was the hint of familiar steel in her kind, matronly tone that told the distraught young werewolf, and everyone else in the vicinity with them, that he needed to listen to her and heed her words, or else there'd be seven shades of holy hell to pay. It was unlike his Mollywobbles to sound so cold and unforgiving.

Usually, she was the warmest person aside from Tonks in the entire Order of the Phoenix, saving the stoic tone and sometimes harsh words exchanged for their twins whenever Fred and George were being particularly difficult.

This was…not like his wife at all. Molly may have spoken the words, they may have come from her lips, but this voice was not that of his wife's. Her voice was flat, emotionless, and her brown eyes glazed over in anger.

He had never quite seen Molly so rattled up quite like this before. Mr. Weasley was having trouble forming an apt response and thinking of something—anything—he could say to calm the man down from his spiraling surges of hot anger, so he opted for silence instead.

"Remus, please _listen_ to me," Molly coaxed, trying to get his attention as she shoved the hot cup of tea his way. It was better said than done because the husband and soon-to-be father did not react to her at all. "You need to trust me now. Tonks is _fine_. Do you _hear_ me? Your wife is going to be just _fine_."

_That_ did it. Just her response was enough to finally elicit a response from the man. Mr. Weasley drew in a sharp intake of breath that was more a hiss than anything else and watched as at first, with such painstaking slowness, Remus raised his eyes to meet Molly's gaze, and then as his mind struggled to process the witch's words and caught up to what she had just said, his head whiplashed upward so fast, Arthur could have sworn he heard a neck muscle in Remus's neck pull and crack a bit.

He flinched, thinking the poor fellow would be feeling _that_ in the morning, though the man had bigger problems to deal with now.

Such as how he was going to make amends to his hurting wife.

In the dim light of the simple kitchen of his and Tonks's cottage, Arthur could see just how much color Remus had lost in his face.

This incident tonight, accident or not, had clearly shaken him to his core.

"H—how is my wife going to be _fine_ , Molly?! _Tell_ _me_!" Poor Lupin's demand came out sharper than he meant it to, and Arthur swiveled his head to the left to watch as Molly flinched away in hurt and surprise.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips into a narrow, rigid line, and Arthur, out of instinct by this point of several happy, married years together, also found himself flinching away out of surprise, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he prepared himself for one of his wife's outbursts. But it did not come.

By some miracle of Merlin's Light, Molly instead merely proceeded to harden her expression in response to Remus's wolfish aggression and replied in a curt and clipped tone, "Because her health is no longer in any immediate danger now that she is at St. Mungo's. You heard the head Healer yourself. Tonks is going to be just _fine_. Yes, she is a werewolf now, but just look at you!" she protested, throwing out her arm in exasperation as she gestured towards Remus, who blinked at her.

When Remus did not respond out of confusion and anger, she huffed in frustration and folded her arms across her chest in annoyance.

"You've lived almost your entire _life_ as a werewolf and it hasn't affected your abilities or your health in any way, as long as you remember to take your Wolfsbane Potion," she added, pretending not to notice how Remus flinched and turned his head away in shame, continuing on as though Lupin had not made any sort of movement. "While it's true that I don't know what the future ahead for Tonks now that she's…like _you_ , I think that your wife and baby will be just fine. Tonks is a strong young woman, stronger than anyone gives her credit for. If anyone can adapt to the new conditions and lifestyles with ease, it's going to be her," Molly began somewhat hesitantly, glancing down and fidgeting with her simple gold wedding band on her left ring finger, "I have already agreed to act as something of a midwife for Tonks during her pregnancy when the—when the time comes. Your wife specifically requested me. I think that it puts her at ease to know I've carried seven children and am still going strong," she sighed, a brief half-smile of admiration darting across her features, but just as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

Molly let out a tiny little groan and continued. "She has every intention of keeping your baby, Remus, and you made a _vow_ , it's as good as an Unbreakable Vow to you, I can see it in your eyes, you won't abandon Tonks now, you swore an _oath_ to be by her side always the night you married her, and I hope, for your and her sake, Lupin, that you aim to keep that promise that you made. Tonks needs you now more than ever."

Molly fell silent and waited for poor Lupin to speak, who slumped back against the backrest of the simple wooden chair he'd collapsed in, his mind still reeling from his wife's news that he was going to be a father.

If Remus had heard her words just now, they did not seem to register. "What have I _done_? How—how could I have _let_ this happen?" Remus groaned, raking his hands through his prematurely graying light brown hair in anguish. " _How_?" He lifted his chin and glanced around the small round kitchen table, towards Sirius, Arthur, and Molly for guidance.

Sirius, in a vain attempt to light the grim mood, felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward as he allowed the smallest ghost of a smile to flit across his ruggedly handsome features and toyed with his wand in his hand.

"I would have _thought_ that would have been obvious, Moony," he snorted, his sarcasm practically dripping from his words as he spoke to his best friend, slowly beginning to sound more and more like himself again.

Seeing Moony wasn't going to drink his tea, he reached across the table and pulled the cup of tea over towards him and took a long swig, wincing as the hot liquid practically burned the taste buds off his tongue and stung a little bit as it traveled slowly, trickling down his esophagus.

"Next time, if you don't want this kind of surprise in the bedroom, you really ought to take my advice and why don't you learn to pull—"

" **SIRIUS**!" bellowed both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in unison, Mr. Weasley curling his hand into a fist and slamming it down on the table, upon the pair of Weasleys noticed Lupin's anguished expression, and knowing for a fact his best friend's 'helpful commentary' wasn't helping the distraught werewolf and husband sort through his range of emotions.

"Ignore him, Remus, Sirius doesn't know what he's saying," Molly snapped angrily, shooting Sirius a withering look that would have made flowers wilt and swatting Sirius on the arm.

Molly let out an exasperated sigh and pinched at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger and shot a dark look Arthur's way. She furrowed her ginger brows into a frown and let out another tired sounding sigh, wondering if her and Arthur's being here was a lost cause, at least for tonight.

Seemingly, the only one who he allowed to get close to these days other than Sirius was his wife, and Sirius, when he'd gone ahead to alert the others in the Order and Tonks's mother of what had happened, he'd left no detail out of Remus and Nymphadora's conversation regarding her announcement that she was about a month pregnant with their baby, and how Remus had not taken the news well at all, much to his wife's dismay.

Molly wondered and clenched her eyes shut, praying to Merlin Above, if there was still time for Lupin to make amends, apologize to his wife for the horrific way he had reacted to Tonks's news, and start helping her heal.

"Just take some time to process it," Arthur piped up, finally breaking his silence since perhaps the first time since arriving with Molly and Sirius back to Remus and Tonks's cottage to keep the distraught wizard company, they were worried in his mental state of anguish he'd hurt himself, knowing full well that Lupin blamed himself for Tonks's condition. "I'm sure the situation isn't as bad as you think," Arthur began, looking towards his nails and picking at them so poor Lupin wouldn't have to look either one of them in the eyes if he was uncomfortable as the three of them attempted to reach Remus a different way.

Remus frowned. Something that Molly had said resonated in his exhausted mind, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Sirius knew by the way his head whiplashed sharply upward and how his light brown eyes darkened, flashing in anger as he regarded Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, that the two of them could anticipate another wolfish outburst, giving the poor man's already agitated state of mind right now.

It felt as though Mrs. Weasley's words echoed in his conscience.

_She had been so excited to tell you._

"You…you _knew_ ," Remus growled, the words spewing from his mouth like a putrid poison that had settled, lingering on his tongue. " _All_ of you, _didn't_ you?" he shouted, curling his hand around the handle of his tea mug, his other hand balling into a fist and slamming down on the wooden surface of the table, almost hard enough to crack and splinter the wood.

"Easy, Moony," Sirius cautioned, hoping his voice remained neutral. Sometimes, when coming down off of a full-moon cycle, especially in an already distressed and upset state of mood as he was in now, Remus didn't know his own strength.

Or rather, was aware of the brute strength of the Wolf within him, and worked hard to suppress it, especially now that he was married to Sirius's cousin.

But Sirius's cautionary words were as wind to Moony, whose eyes had narrowed until they were mere slits, and he did not seem to hear his words to him.

"You—you all _knew_ that my wife was _pregnant_ , and you _kept_ this from me!" he roared, his face rapidly paling in anger. " _Why_? Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

Molly, Arthur, and Sirius all fell silent, crestfallen, uncertain expressions all evident on their features, and the three of them somehow managed to maintain a stony expression that at the moment set Lupin's blood aflame like fire in his veins, and his rage reignited like a hot fire seed of anger, like dragon's flame.

"You…you all _kept_ this news from me for a _purpose_. What was it?" he growled, baring his canines. When neither of them immediately responded, Remus felt his temper soar and swell to dangerous levels in his chest. Red. He saw nothing but red blurring at the front of his visions. " **TELL** **ME**!" he roared, the surprisingly loud bellow of his voice echoing and reverberating off the walls of his and Dora's simple cottage.

He scowled as the three sitting opposite him on the other side of the kitchen table jumped, annoyed at the temporary chaos, and breathed out a tense, shaking sigh of defeat, his shoulders slumping forward.

Arthur flinched. Remus's condition took its toll every month, and he could not recall the werewolf ever losing his temper quite like this before. This was… _new_.

Remus lifted his chin to meet Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's gazes, though, more specifically, in this case, Molly's.

" _Why_?" he repeated, growling it through gritted teeth. "Why _keep_ something this important from me, Molly? I—I could have…"

But his voice cracked and trailed off as he failed to complete his sentence.

Molly, naturally, was the first to recover from Remus's uncharacteristically violent, animalistic outburst.

"Because it was not our business to tell, Remus," she answered steadily, fixing Lupin with an unusually hard and stern glower. "It was always your wife's news to reveal to you, from the moment she found out, dear, and, considering what happened to her tonight, I suspect that she told you out of a sense of fear that something would happen to your baby, and I don't blame her for not wanting to wait to tell you. But _you_ , Remus," she sighed exasperatedly, seeing how Remus flinched and shirked away at how disappointed and hurt she sounded, though her voice hardened and therein was the familiar hint of steel that told Lupin, even in his emotionally compromised state, that he had better listen to her, or else.

"You did not react the way that Tonks hoped you would," Molly continued, folding her arms across her chest. "And now…in her current condition, she thinks that you _hate_ her for it, and you need to talk to her first thing tomorrow, Lupin."

"Y—you talked to her? What…what did you she say to you? Did Tonks say something to you, Molly?" Remus managed to croak hoarsely, blearily lifting his head, for he had buried his face in his hands, anything but to look Molly in the eyes.

But Molly shook her head. "No. I—I figured, given how much she's hurting, that _you_ should be the first one that she talks to when she walks up, the first face she sees in the morning, dear. You are her _husband_ , Remus." Molly sighed, giving Arthur's shoulder a soft but firm squeeze, silently communicating that the hour was growing late, and this conversation was going nowhere, and they needed to leave.

Arthur nodded his agreement, slowly rising to his feet and wincing at the stiffness in his joints from sitting at the kitchen table for hours on end with Lupin.

The man held a forlorn and careworn expression, his lined face still buried in his hands. Arthur's gaze drifted to the man's yellow gold band on his left ring finger.

"What are you going to do about this, Remus?" Arthur asked, his expression grim and his tone solemn. "Tonks has made changes for _you_ , Remus. Think of that before you go to visit your wife in the morning. Do let us know if there's anything Molly or I can do for you, you're as good as family, you and Tonks, you know."

When Remus did not immediately respond, Arthur continued in one last desperate attempt to reach him. "What changes are _you_ going to make for _her_?"

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley murmured a soft goodbye and yanked Sirius to his feet, sensing the hour was late, giving it was almost two' o clock in the morning, and they all could sense the man was in no mood to talk, and he simply needed time.

Remus groaned and buried his face in his hands, and let out a shiver as a cold night breeze wafted through the open kitchen window that Molly had flung open earlier to allow for fresh air to flow through the cottage and hopefully provide some small measure of serenity and peace to his otherwise fractured, broken heart and soul.

It carried with it the faint scent of rain as his nostrils flared in agitation.

The guilt at how he had yelled at Tonks lay like ice in the pit of his stomach. What he had _done_ —the way he had grabbed her wrist like that, hard enough that he could have _broken_ it were he not careful—sat not on his chest, but in his mind, tormenting him, refusing to leave.

"Why did she marry me," he moaned, burying his face in his hands. "She's so beautiful and I am... _this_ ," he growled, gesturing to himself in disgust. "So I am no more than another…. _monster_ , condemned to this life, wh—b-because I—I am the monster parents tell their children about at night, because no matter how much _she_ claims to love _me_ , I've… _killed_ her."

The thought that Dora, who he loved more than anything else in the world, more so than himself, would suffer over the course of the next nine months because of what he had done to her, her pregnancy possibly causing her hardships and could eventually cost his wife her life was one that refused to leave his mind alone in peace.

The hatred and self-loathing in his tone was undeniable. What he had done to her he could not un-do. He could try to make amends in subtle ways, but the confession was out of the question, even to someone like Dumbledore, if he were of a mind to talk to someone other than Molly and Arthur and Dora of his troubles.

Remus did not feel like he deserved Tonks's love _or_ her affections, not after the horrible way that he had treated her only moments ago, but he could not help but cling to it, speak his heart to her when he went to go and visit her in St. Mungo's on the morrow, and beg for her forgiveness and her mercy.

He clung to Tonks's love and hung the shreds of his sanity on it. Lupin prayed that one day he would be able to forgive himself for what he had done, but the guilt at how he had reacted towards her announcement that she was expecting sat like a stain upon his heart, an ugly, festering wound.

He could only hope that in time, Tonks would forgive him. It seemed unfair to Remus that no matter how hard he strived to be the man his conscience wanted him to be, it would keep taunting him with his failures and his flaws.

Each time the regrets reemerged like they were doing to him right now, Remus tried his hardest to analyze them, hoping that this time, his tormented mind would be satisfied with his self-professed remorse, but it never was.

Like an unforgiving specter, it would be back tomorrow to haunt him all over again. His regret at how he had treated his wife took a little bit of his defenses at a time, coming for the distraught husband and soon-to-be-father in waves.

What he should have done differently or said differently, what Remus shouldn't have done at all. He could not undo it, but he could make it right. He just didn't know.

All he could do was try, and hope that in time, Tonks would forgive him, because he didn't know if he could forgive himself for what he'd done to his wife…

Lupin, who had been about to turn in for the night and get what little sleep he could, though he knew it would prove futile, slowly rose from his chair when a noise caught his attention and his wolfish hearing went into overdrive and his ears perked up at the sound of a knock on his front door.

The knock came quietly, at first, and then there was silence. He froze, his posture stiffened, though he made no move to open the door.

_Perhaps it's just Molly or Arthur? Did they leave something behind_? He wondered, though a quick glance back at the kitchen table confirmed they hadn't, and besides, everyone in the Order of the Phoenix with the exception of Mundungus Fletcher was free to come and go to his and Dora's cottage as they pleased, as long as they knocked first, which this person had done. It came again.

The knock was louder and faster this time, with a sense of urgency, and Remus strode towards the door, with his wand pointed at the doorknob, just in case.

"Who is it?" He flinched as he recognized his voice sounded rougher, coarser around the edges than perhaps he would have liked, but in this day and age, you couldn't be too careful.

"Norah Jameson, Mr. Lupin. I—I've been looking for you a while now," came a woman's voice, and he blinked, startled.

He did not know this Stranger who had seemingly appeared outside his and Dora's doorstep, and was about to open his mouth and ask what she wanted of him and why she was outside of his front door at well past two o'clock in the morning when her reserved and quiet voice wafted through the doors, and his ears perked up.

"Can I help you?" he asked cautiously, furrowing his brows in confusion. He did not want to turn away an innocent soul in need of help if she was in any kind of trouble, though there was a high probability that she could also be a Death Eater sent here to spy on the Order by orders from Lord Voldemort himself. _Or Greyback_.

"I—I'm a werewolf, like you and your wife, sir. I—I saw the blood in the woods from the—the attack. I—I need your help. My…my encampment is in grave danger, sir. Alpha sent me. If you agree to help me and at the very least hear me out, I will help your wife."


	5. Of Wolves and Men

**CHAPTER FIVE **

This strange material of beauty, a few years younger than he was, thirty years old, if what the new arrival in his cottage was telling Remus was true, this She-Wolf, a Stranger in their home, was not admittedly what he had been expecting at two in the morning, and he could tell she was feeling just as awkward as he was.

Remus felt, given his current emotional state of mind, that he was in no fit state to receive guests, though he had admittedly only allowed this young blonde woman entry because she had stated that she could help his wife. _Could she really_?

The small spark of hope that had ignited in his chest was almost too much for him to bear. It seemed an eternity before Remus found his voice.

"Forgive me, miss. I—I don't mean to come across as rude, but…why are you here? H—How do you think you can help my wife, Miss Jameson? I don't think anyone can, she—she's like us now, there _is_ no cure for what I've done, for what we are, so how do you think that you can help my wife, miss?" he asked, watching with a careful eye and his nostrils flaring as she strolled almost lazily throughout his small kitchen, taking in the neat surroundings as she picked up a cup, looking at the table and the chairs.

Remus swallowed down hard past the lump in his throat as he heard the faltering crack and dip in his voice, and he blinked back tears. For what he had done to his wife, he could not un-do. There was no cure for being a werewolf, for if there was, he would be the first in line.

The young blonde carefully scrutinized the small chipped teacup before carefully setting it back on the saucer and shoved her balled hands into the pockets of her black leather coat and regarded Lupin with a look akin to pity intermingled with that of immense, brimming sadness.

"Perhaps not," she answered in a somewhat clipped and cold tone, and if Lupin wasn't mistaken, and about these things he was usually not, he guessed this She-Wolf to be of German descent, the way her accent held a slight tinge to it and the way she pronounced her r's. The young She-Wolf fell silent, biting the inside wall of her cheek as she paused and continued looking around the simple home and Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin. She swallowed down hard past a growing lump in her throat that was inexplicably causing her to feel lightheaded all of a sudden and continued speaking to him.

"But that does not mean that I could not act as a support person to your wife during her…time of…adjustment. This is a difficult time for her, though I don't think I need to tell _you_ that, Wolf. She's going to be scared, confused, _hurt_. Even more so with your little wolf cub on the way. No offense, Mr. Lupin, but something tells me she has never met a female werewolf before, and she will need a woman's advice and touch for certain aspects of her life going forward. Not that I don't doubt your abilities as her mate, but there are some things she is not going to be comfortable sharing with you. She will need a _woman_ 's influence in her life, or rather, someone…like _us_. Like me," she added in a somewhat hardened and smug tone as she crinkled her nose in disgust and looked at Lupin, rather incredulously, as though she thought him dim-witted for not having thought of this aspect himself. Still, she drew in a breath and continued.

"Now that she is…like _us_ , her pregnancy will not be a normal one. It will be difficult but not unmanageable. She will not understand her heightened senses at first, certain…cravings will more than likely confuse her," she finished somewhat lamely, eyeing the chair that Remus had just vacated, and without even waiting to be asked or given permission from Lupin, promptly took a seat and folded one leg over the other and stared.

Remus blinked owlishly at the forward behavior of this werewolf. He had never truly met another quite like this young witch only six years younger than him and was even more surprised when Norah spoke up.

"Aren't you going to sit down? I'm going to assume that the rumors I've heard of you are _true_ , Remus Lupin, and you _haven_ 't forgotten your manners to a young pretty woman like myself and have invited me in to take a _seat_. It's the _least_ you can do, I walked all this bloody way to come and see you. My feet are _killing_ me, Mr. Lupin," she stated coldly, folding her arms across her chest, the foot not crossed over the other had begun to tap restlessly, and her skittish light blue eyes darted nervously to the left and right, and her mouth had formed a rigid grimace and in the dim light of the kitchen, Lupin could see just how nervous and afraid this She-Wolf really was.

Remus bristled, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he gaped indignantly at this She-Stranger, this other _wolf_ , who he guessed, rather begrudgingly, was no longer a Stranger anymore, now that he knew her name. He had never been addressed in such a degrading tone before! This Wolf was eyeballing him as though he were fragile!

 _But you are_ , his conscience reminded him unhelpfully. _You just attacked your wife and you learned you're going to be a father to a wolf-cub_!

In the Order, he was a highly-skilled member, respected and admired, and something of a role model for the others, though he had to remind himself to keep his temper in check that among his true kind, he was something of an Outsider, a Stranger. And even worse… a Betrayer.

For he had shunned their way of life long ago, the moment he had become old enough to understand that not every Wolf despised their condition. He wondered which one this Norah Jameson was, if she was proud to call herself a lycanthrope, or if she was like him and reviled it.

He felt a minor twinge of annoyance prick at his heart at being invited to sit down in his _own_ _home_ , and he was rapidly approaching the point of having had it up to _here_ with being in the company of other human beings for one night. After what he had done to Dora, the only thing he wanted to do was sleep this off, if he even _could_ , and go see her first thing in the morning so that his face would be the first thing his wife saw whenever she awoke and opened her eyes in that unfamiliar room.

Remus had no idea admittedly why this female werewolf was here, in his and Dora's cottage uninvited and unannounced, showing up on their doorstep on a whim, and this woman certainly had not shown proper edict, had sat in his chair without even waiting to be offered to sit down.

Though he supposed that if this woman really could help Tonks, then he was, at the very least, willing to help her out and listen to her clan troubles, although Remus did not exactly know how he'd be able to help.

He bore the unmistakable signs of a werewolf that had lived amongst humans for all of his life, and Remus had a sinking feeling in the pit of his already churning stomach that if he were to aid this woman in whatever trouble had befallen her and the rest of her fellow kin, he would be turned away and shunned. The other wolves would be able to smell it on Remus.

The betrayal, the scent of Human on his person, for he was _not_ like them. His features were typical of his family in Wales, what was left of his relatives, his father, Lyall, and a few distant cousins, save for the scars Fenrir Greyback had given him which marked him, changed him, when he was only five years old, but within the confines of any werewolf territory, be that woods, camp, or assuming a group had set up a base of operations somewhere in a safe house of sorts, it marked him as a Stranger.

His features were alarming to the other werewolves who had not openly rejected the lifestyle as Remus had vehemently done throughout his life. Fully-fledged werewolves like the ones Greyback recruited, their eyes were smaller than his, flecked with permanent tints of gold at the edges, and their mouths meaner, thinner lipped and often elongated.

But with this She-Wolf, he could detect neither of those traces. Now that this female werewolf was sitting directly across from him, it was far easier for Remus to observe Norah Jameson discreetly. As she fidgeted with the small plain silver wedding ring she wore on her left ring finger and glanced somewhat skittishly around Lupin and Dora's kitchen, it was natural for Remus to look Norah's way and judge for himself if he thought this Wolf could be trusted, or if this was all just a ploy of Greyback's.

She was of average height for a She-Wolf, standing around 5'5 if he had to pinpoint exactly how tall this woman was.

She shifted in her seat and uncrossed her legs only to fold the other over her leg, a nervous tic of hers, Remus noticed. Her skin was pale, save for a light smattering of freckles alongside its nose. Her golden blonde hair was cut short in a similar fashion to Dora's, in a short pixie cut with bangs that fell in wisps and stray strands to just above delicately shaped eyebrows.

Dressed in a dark red blouse, black pants, worn and tattered black leather combat boots, black acrylic fingerless gloves to keep her hands warm from the harsh elements of nature, and a black leather overcoat that came to just above her knees, judging by this Wolf's practical attire, he could only assume that Norah Jameson was a Hunter, a Forager.

The woman hunted her own food in whatever forest her clan resided in and she and the rest of her people lived off the land and its provisions. However, it was the young She-Wolf's eyes that ensnared wasn't necessarily the color of Norah Jameson's blue eyes that were so breathtaking, as it was what was inside of them. Smeared mascara lines and heavy eyelids. And bright. Burning bright with anger.

Remus used to believe glacier eyes like this She-Wolf's orbs were ice-cold, that they knew no warmth and never shared love. That's what he used to believe, just like Dora's gray eyes, which were cold and perfect.

But now he knew, the hottest fires always burned blue and gray. When he met her gaze, he felt drawn into Norah's eyes. The icy blueness generated a feeling like he was being pulled into a lake of frozen emotions.

It was like all the myriad shades of blue swirled together to form a whirlpool of apprehension. He could tell by Norah's stiff body language that she did not fully trust him yet, nor he her, thinking it worked both ways, and those flickering azure orbs confirmed his suspicions of Norah. Her eyes sparkled like storm clouds right before lightning hit. Clouds of grey and blue threatened floods and fury while pupils dilated in passion, eyelashes catching the raindrops. She cared far too much.

Still, if there was even the slimmest chance that this She-Wolf could help ease Dora into the transition of now becoming a fully-fledged lycanthrope, then Remus begrudgingly felt he had no choice to trust her. Or at the very least, hear her out. Lupin heaved a tired sigh and raised his wand and pointed it directly at the steaming mug of tea he'd purposefully left untouched that was now resting in front of Norah.

A burst of hot air came forth from the tip of his wand and the Earl Grey tea in the chipped cup began to simmer and bubble with the heat. "Have some tea," he began hesitantly, lifting his gaze to meet hers. "And why don't you start from the beginning. Tell me _everything_ and don't skip over the details. I want to know why you've sought me out. I don't possibly see how I can help your clan, Miss Jameson, but if you're willing to help my wife adjust to her new… _lifestyle_ ," here, he cringed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and turning away for a moment to compose himself. "Then I am willing to listen to you, and perhaps, in time, _trust_ you. What group you're with, who your Alpha is, and don't even _think_ of lying to me," he growled, baring his teeth and letting the Wolf within growl. "I detect when you _lie_ , so don't even _try_ it, Miss Jameson."

The blonde She-Wolf responded in kind with a hiss of her own and bared her still sharp, pointed canines and incisors. Remus flinched.

"Forgive me if I don't entirely _trust_ you yet, Mr. Lupin," Norah Jameson retorted harshly. She glanced down at the chipped teacup clutched in her hands and furrowed her brows in a frown. "How do I know you haven't spiked this tea with Veritaserum or any other potion, hmm?"

Oh, for Merlin's _beard_! Was there no _end_ to the amount of rudeness he was going to have to endure from this She-Wolf? He let out a growl and seized on a tuft of his hair and tugged, resisting his urge to roar like an enraged beast.

" _Drink_." He was well aware his voice was pressured with ire and the blood within his veins was starting to boil, but he no longer cared.

She would tell him why she was here in their house, or Merlin _help_ her, this Jameson woman was _not_ going to like what happened next. The command escaped Remus's lips as a low, threatening, wolfish growl.

"If I _wanted_ to hurt you, I'd have done it before you could have so much as setting one toe across the threshold of my own front door," he growled, feeling his agitation and frustration over the turn of events this wretched, horrible night had taken soar to new levels.

It felt as though this She-Wolf were only here in his home to add salt onto the already tender wound that was his broken heart at what he'd done, and he did not know exactly _why_ she had come, but he felt a sudden, fierce obligation to remind her that _she_ was the one who came. He scowled, furrowing his brows into a frown.

"Need I remind you, Miss Jameson, that _you_ are the one who sought _me_ out. Not the other way around. You came here of your own volition, Norah. You claim to need my help, and what benefit would it do me to poison you or harm you in any way, if what you tell me is the truth, that you really can help Dora?"

Norah, for her credit, did not respond immediately to Remus's question, which raised a red flag in his mind at first, but then she swallowed down hard past a lump in her throat and averted her attention downward, towards the tea mug clutched in her hand, and, though she quirked a brow at the drink in hand, she slowly raised the cup to her lips. She allowed the hot liquid to pour down her throat and winced as it burned a few of the taste buds of her tongue in the process of traveling down her esophagus at what felt to her like a snail's pace as it trickled.

Though she did not deny that the warm drink felt welcoming, a feeling that she had not felt around another human being in a long time.

Lupin watched as a light pink blush speckled along her pale cheeks as the heat crept towards her face, and he had a feeling this had nothing to do with the tea he'd just offered her. Remus could tell Norah felt ashamed of how she had acted so irrationally and somewhat hostile towards him.

Though, if he was being completely honest with himself, he did not fault her for how she had behaved. Given that she lived…wherever she happened to set up camp with others like them, Jameson had probably not had the best interactions with non-lycanthropic human beings so far. He was all too familiar with the treatment. And now, Tonks was about to be subjected to that same scorn and prejudice, _and_ their baby!

Remus felt the familiar swell of panic well within the confines of his chest, though he swallowed hard and forced it back down. He did not want this She-Wolf to see him in an already further agitated state now.

But Merlin's Beard, what had he _done_?! This life was no life for his wife or child. He could handle it, having been used to it by now, but… He was not so sure that Dora would be able to cope with the changes. How, when another witch or wizard found out of his condition, they could barely talk to him, much less dare to look him in the eye out of some…unbridled fear that they would somehow contract his condition just by means of eye contact or an accidental brush of their hand against his.

"Are you with Fenrir Greyback?" Lupin asked quietly. He could tell by the way her head whiplashed upward sharply, how she coughed and spluttered and almost choked on her tea, that he had just asked her the wrong question, though the look she gave him, told her answer. and judging by the look of absolute terror within her sky-blue orbs struck him as though he had been hit square in the chest with a solid Knockback Jinx.

The piercing, burning stare she was giving him felt as though he had been burned by fire, and he was not sure what to make of Norah's look she was currently shooting him, brows raised so far up onto her forehead that they almost disappeared and there was such a look of anger on her face.

He got his answer when a chill ran through Lupin's spine as he heard the She-Wolf's yell of anguish. His blood ran cold as she pulled from the pocket of her jacket what appeared to be a small silver hunting knife.

The coldness of the blade only steadied Norah's resolve. It pulled away from the heat from her clasping fingers and they blanched in response.

Remus barely had time to blink as she plunged the tip of the dagger across the table into the wood of his kitchen table, inches away from his hand, and the She-Wolf would have impaled his hand had he not moved his palm away at the last possible second. Letting out a growl of anger, he stood so fast that he promptly overturned the chair he had been sitting in.

"How _dare_ you stand there and accuse me of having any sort of ties to that—that _monster_!" shouted Norah, practically hissing it through clenched teeth, her cobalt blue eyes flashing angrily, darkening to almost a cerulean hue in color as her nostrils flared. "I am _not_ with Greyback!"

Lupin bared his teeth and his gaze flitted down to the knife's tip now plunged into his kitchen table and let out a low warning growl. "You will find it within yourself to forgive my question. It had to be asked, Miss Jameson. Forgive me. I can't be too careful. Greyback is the one who bit me, and I will not have any of his followers or the accursed wretch himself around my wife and our unborn child," he explained calmly, though his voice was taut with rage, and his fists shook at his sides. "Remove it. _Now_." He commanded, and the hint of steel in his normally kind and quiet voice told Norah that she was to obey the order given, or else she'd be paying.

Shooting him a glowering look of daggers, she wrenched the knife out of the table, removed her wand from her coat's pocket, pointed it at the now-gaping hole in the oak table, and murmured, " _Reparo_!" She watched in numb silence as the hole magically sealed itself up.

"Good as new. Sorry," Norah grumbled, murmuring it under her breath, and to Remus, she spoke in a tone that suggested the She-Wolf wasn't sorry at all for just puncturing a hole in his and Dora's kitchen table and nearly _impaling_ his hand.

Letting out a tired, defeated sigh, she collapsed back into her chair, resting her back against the support and pinched at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, eyes closed, taking deep breaths.

In. And Out. In. And out. Repeat this a few more times, and slowly, her breathing began to regulate back to something that resembled normal oxygen flow.

Norah, for her part, was so utterly and bloody _confused_ , and not to mention, outright terrified by the werewolf Remus Lupin's posed query.

Though in all honesty, not exactly by the question itself, more like Lupin's sudden change in countenance towards her just before he had spat out his strangely worded question. What kind of a query was that? Was she with _Greyback_? _No_ , of course she bloody wasn't _with_ Greyback, though he had every bit of the reason to do why she was _here_. And besides, just a moment ago, Remus Lupin by all accounts had looked about ready to sink his fangs into her throat and rip her to shreds.

For the second time since meeting her, no less, though Norah supposed she could be persuaded to show the man pity. He'd had a tough night, she could tell by the anger in his eyes, the loathing, self-hatred, that he blamed himself, and not the Mad Beast within him, that had attacked his beloved wife, and on top of that, knowing she was pregnant with a wolf cub, well… Norah supposed it would be enough to send even the calmest man over the edge.

Not to mention Mr. Lupin was still coming down off of his final transformation cycle, and she hers, so the added tensions in the room was practically emanating off the pair of werewolves in red waves.

If the tension in the little kitchen of Remus and Tonks's cottage were left hanging in the air as a color, the entire room would have been scarlet.

She watched, waiting with bated breath as Lupin's light brown eyes widened and dilated slightly, as though perhaps he were seeing Norah clearly for the first time, which she thought rather strange, considering she'd been conversing with the man for maybe upwards of four minutes, at best, and he leaned back in his chair as though she'd spat in his face.

Norah didn't even want to comment on how he was eyeing her somewhat apprehensively, or how she thought this He-Wolf to be a leech. He had scorned and rejected their people, as though Remus John Lupin believed that all other Wolves except for him had asked for this. She had not _asked_ for this.

She had never wanted to live her life as a werewolf, nor did she want her husband to suffer her same condition.

 _Jax_ , she reminded herself, scolding herself for allowing her fiery temper to swell in her veins as she looked across the kitchen table at perhaps the only werewolf in the entire country of Great Britain that she could trust, aside from her husband. The others in their clan would not understand. But if she could make him see, make him understand, then... _Then you've got a prayer's chance in the Seven Hells of getting Jax back_. _Jax. Jax. You're here for your son and your people_. _For the Clan_.

Norah blinked owlishly and forced her mind to return to the pressing matter at hand. Was he seriously questioning her judgment right now?

Did this man truly believe her to have allied herself with the likes of a vicious monster like Greyback? The same man who'd taken her son?!

Did Remus Lupin really expect her to _answer_?

How the bloody hell was she supposed to answer his question when just _thinking_ the name of her four-year-old son caused a vision of his sweet, innocent face to dart through her mind and when she attempted to speak, it felt as though there was a gag on her mouth, and her tongue felt thick in her mouth.

Norah couldn't even seem to stop the violent tremors in her hand, which was causing tiny droplets of tea to spill onto the hardwood surface of the small round kitchen table, or get her heart to stop racing erratically against her chest, much less begin to formulate a coherent thought now.

This man, this He-Wolf, Remus Lupin, was…something of a contradiction, not like the other werewolves she had ever encountered. He was expecting her to talk, to tell him everything that happened, and while a moment ago, he had behaved rather coldly and somewhat hostile towards her, the man sitting across from her was now regarding her with no small amount of concern in his eyes, and she could have sworn she saw the briefest flickers of something dart along the man's light brown eyes flecked with bits of gold at the edges, though she knew this to be a side effect of their transformations.

His eyes got that way at the full moon, as would his wife's. As did hers.

She sighed and summoned the courage within her constricted, pained chest to apologize, though when she spat the words more than spoke them, it sounded as though every word uttered caused her pain. "I…apologize for my outburst. I—I didn't mean to…lose my temper. I am… _sorry_." Norah blearily lifted her head and tried to focus her tear-filled gaze more than a few feet in front of herself as she swallowed down hard. "I came a long way to find you, and I am...not quite myself again."

He nodded. He knew a thing or two about coming down off of a full-moon cycle.

"I forgive you," Remus answered stiffly, though Norah could tell the Wolf was not about to forgive or forget the dagger in his table anytime soon. "Why don't you calm down, no more knives, no wands drawn, and just…drink the tea and tell me why you're here and how I can help you."

Remus Lupin's cautious tone startled Norah Jameson once more and abruptly broke the young blonde woman out of her violent swirl of dark thoughts on enacting revenge on Fenrir Greyback, each bloodier than the last.

Norah felt her initial discomfort return. This other Wolf, though she knew of him, had heard the stories, still remained an enigma to Norah.

His true intentions and motives for listening to her remained unclear, though his sole expressed interest was so far to allow Norah to help his wife come to terms and learn how to adjust to being fully wolf, like them. Norah inwardly sighed and bit on the wall of her cheek, running her tongue along the top wall of her teeth and flinching as the top grazed over her still sharp and pointed canines. She wished her husband were here.

Wes would know what to do, though he'd gone after Greyback following the kidnapping, of which she quickly realized Mr. Lupin was still waiting for an answer as to why she had come here at two o'clock in the morning and sought specifically him out. Because she trusted no one else.

But Norah had no idea what to do, by Merlin's left… _No. don't go there,_ her mind cautioned _. Just breathe. Deep breaths. In and out._

Her brain still felt as though it were racing at the speed of light, the damned stubborn muscle of corded veins in her chest that was her heart thrumming so damned audibly loud she was surprised Lupin didn't hear.

 _Jax. My son. Kidnapped. Tell him. Just…spit it out and tell him what he wants to hear. Make him help you find your son and you'll help his wife_. A fair trade, right? But…but what if Lupin wouldn't do it?

Then what? Then she was well and truly on her own, hoping that her foolish husband hadn't gotten himself killed by sneaking off in the middle of the night with nothing by his pillow except for a note, for Merlin's sake!

Her son was why she had come. Fenrir had kidnapped her three-year-old son. Her sweet, precious little Jax who wouldn't even hurt a damn fly.

"I…I…" Norah flinched as her voice came out in stammers, and she wasn't even sure if she was trying to speak or just keep her mind from breaking down into even more fragments than it already had in just the last two nights alone when she'd found her son and husband missing.

Her violent shaking in her hands was becoming worse, and before she could spill any more of the man's tea onto his table, she shoved away from the teacup and gently set it back in its place on the saucer and swallowed.

"My…my _son_ , Jax," she whispered hoarsely. "Is only three years old, Lupin. A—and he was kidnapped two nights ago by Greyback. I…angered him by speaking out against what he does, and this is my punishment." She swallowed nervously and blinked back briny, salty tears. She drew in a deep, heaving breath to calm herself.

Merlin's Beard, but it felt like she couldn't _breathe_. Why couldn't she breathe?! Norah was sure at any moment now, slick tears would drip from her lids. Any second.

"I—I _need_ to get him back, a—and the rest of the clan that I belong to won't help me. They're _terrified_ of Greyback. What he is. What he does to kids. _Please_ ," she begged, feeling the panic begin to claw at her throat as it hollowed and constricted, her surge of emotions growing tighter, faster.

Oh, Merlin above, _help_ her, why couldn't she draw in a breath? She couldn't breathe. Norah clenched her eyes tightly shut to quell the surge of terror that pricked at her heart, forcing herself to continue speaking.

"My son…is…not like _us_ , Mr. Lupin. He is _not_ a Wolf. Despite what you might think, I promise you, that he's _not_. H—his father is a werewolf-like me, but Jax is not," she explained shakily, and she knew the moment the words were uttered and left her mouth that she heard Lupin's audible gasp of surprise as he sucked in a sharp breath of cool air that they had hit their mark.

With a somewhat blurred vision as tears ran in successful succession in gentle tracts down her pale cheeks, she lifted her gaze and met Remus's.

"Your baby will _not_ be born a full werewolf, Mr. Lupin. I shared the same concerns as you when...when Wes and I first found out I was pregnant. Our condition can only be passed from one another by biting. At least, that's what I've seen so far, and my son is not like its father _or_ me. He or she might…might enjoy rawer meat when he's old enough to eat solid foods, b—but that's _it_. I—if you and your wife help me get my son back, then…I promise to act as a friend to your wife during her…pregnancy," she answered, feeling her voice rise an octave as she shakily rose to her feet and shoved her hands in her pockets.

When she dared to meet Remus's gaze as she walked to the door, feeling as though she had long since overstayed her brief welcome, there was a surge of what she could only identify as determination in his eyes. As the front door to his cottage opened and Norah stepped out into the cold October air, she shivered and as she exhaled, the breath she'd just expelled from her lips wafted as a puff of cold vapor in front of her.

She turned towards Remus Lupin and awaited the Wolf's answer. When he spoke, his voice was so soft and quiet, that she felt sure she had missed it and had to lean forward in order to hear him better.

Only one word, but it was more than enough.

"Yes."


	6. His Promise

**CHAPTER SIX**

It had to be at least going on close to four in the morning, and the city of London was practically glowing, bathed in the silvery shadow of the already waning previous full moon, and rustling with a light autumnal breeze that brought with it a welcome chill that offered a much-needed reprieve from a particularly hot and heady long summer.

Most were sound asleep in their beds in their homes or flats, though not all were considered quite as fortunate. One young witch in particular still fought the dreamscapes of her own mind, and she feverishly awoke in an unfamiliar hospital bed, in a twist of tangled bedsheets that smelled of starch and linen, scratchy and uncomfortable.

It was not the cool October air nor the sound of the light, rustling breeze that wafted its way through the open window of her private hospital room, that roused the young witch from her sleep. Her heart thrummed erratically against the confines of her chest, a pounding, throbbing mass of corded muscle, and her throat felt hollowed and constricted. Her body felt chilled, cold, and no number of heated blankets could provide her the warmth that she so desperately needed. The only warmth she needed was the smooth touch of her husband's hand against hers, and he was _not_ _here_.

 _Not_ _here_! Not here by her side when Lupin had promised her, he'd always be here for her! He had…he had _broken_ his _promise_ to her as her husband!

A half-choked, half-formed sob found its way to her lips, and yet her tongue refused its release as when she attempted to make any kind of sound at all, it felt as though there was a gag on her mouth and her tongue felt thick in Tonks's throat.

Tonks sent away the urge to scream with a rough, painful swallow as she swallowed down hard past the lump in her throat, and crumpled, face contorting in a pained grimace as she thrashed and twisted wildly in the confines of the hospital bed.

Try as hard as she might, she could not seem to shake the image of the Mad Beasts' face from her mind, the Wolf within her husband, knowing that she was now like him, and the thought of what would happen to their unborn baby was enough to rouse her from sleep, cold, beads of sweat forming along the edge of her browbone.

Her mind and skin felt hot, almost feverish, and a scream tore from her lips as her eyes flung wide open, and Tonks knew she would find no such solace in her dreams.

Not when her mind was plagued with visions of the Wolf, only this time, there was a She-Wolf standing next to the monstrous beast, and she could hear the echoing wails of a newborn baby, screaming, the snarls of the monsters before they pounced.

Another sob was wrenched from her lips, this one set willfully free from its restraints, and Tonks let out a muted scream and buried her face in her pillow.

She knew she would faint whenever her stomach would give out. It felt like her innards were being replaced with some kind of horrible black hole as a coil in her gut twisted, her stomach lurched and churned, and she thought she could taste the bile.

Nausea crept from her abdomen to her head and the world went black.

* * *

Molly Weasley heaved an exasperated sigh and tucked a lock of wavy ginger hair out of her way and back behind her ear where it rightfully belonged before she waved her wand and conjured a small wooden chair out of midair and pulled a seat up to the young Auror and Order member's bedside, not intent on leaving just yet.

She was exhausted. The Healers had done what they could for her, though Molly insisted on doing whatever she could to ease Tonks's discomfort when the young witch woke up and had not once left the young witch's side prior to her and Arthur departing Lupin's cottage and Disapparating straight here to St. Mungo's.

Her neck was almost as good as new, though it was not without its scars. The scars lay fresh and new against Nymphadora's pale skin. Their pink shininess was somewhat shocking upon first glance. _His_ markings, three long slash markings, harsh, jagged pink, and red lines against pale skin so deathly white, cut from pearls, that covered almost the right side of the column of her throat and snaked its way up around the curve of her ear. It would scar permanently, but at least the markings hadn't touched her face. Molly heaved a groan and rested her cheek in her hand as she slipped her wand into the pocket of her housedress.

It had taken her the better part of an hour to treat all of Tonks's cuts and bruises, even with magic and even with the help of her husband.

Of course, the worst injury, that of her neck, had taken the Healers the longest to treat, but with the number of disinfectant spells and various ointments to cleanse and treat the grotesque-looking slash markings, the St. Mungo's lead Healer assigned to care for Miss Tonks had estimated that the infection that had already begun to set in, given Tonks's arrival to St. Mungo's was delayed and perhaps not as swift as it could have been, would take about a week to maybe even two to fully clear up completely.

Molly cringed as she thought of how Dora would take the news when she finally awoke and furrowed her brows in a frown in contemplative thought as her back rested against the chair. She did not want to lie to the younger witch or sugarcoat this process.

It was going to be a brutal recovery. A long and arduous process, one that she hoped Remus would stay by her side for. She needed her husband _now_ more than ever.

Tonks was not going to be allowed out of the house for at least two weeks, though the Healers had said that provided she passed a mental examination in the morning, or rather, later today, given what time of day it was, she would be discharged and free to go home. And that was if all went well and her injuries ran their natural course. But if the infection in her neck persisted, then her recovery would be longer.

A voice spoke up from behind Molly, startling the matronly witch out of her stream of pitiable thoughts as she was unable to tear her gaze away from Tonks's sleeping form. She had woken up a half-hour ago screaming and crying bloody murder, in near hysterics, tears streaming down her face, begging to see her husband _right_ _now_.

It had taken two Healers to subdue the young witch physically, and a third to pry open her mouth and pour copious amounts of both a Sleeping and Calming Draught down her throat, not only to help her sleep but also to calm down her nerves a bit.

Though Molly suspected the only thing that would help Nymphadora to truly heal was the arrival of her husband at her bedside. "I daresay you may as well find Remus," came Arthur's soft, quiet tone. "I can't even imagine what that man might be doing," he sighed, waving his wand, and pulling up a second and third chair, though not before stooping down and giving Molly a brief kiss on the cheek. " _Go_ ," he encouraged firmly, though not unkindly as Mrs. Weasley rose to her feet. "I'll sit with Tonks."

The redhaired middle-aged witch slowly nodded her head in agreement, feeling her lids droop in exhaustion. Remus was naturally the first person they should tell of Tonks's condition now that she had stabilized, at least somewhat.

First and foremost, because he was her husband and father of their unborn baby, but also because there was no telling how Tonks's mother, Andromeda, would react once she learned of the news. Her mother was volatilely opposed to their union, had _not_ attended Remus and Tonks's wedding, and had made it quite plain on more than one occasion what she thought of her beloved daughter, her only child, marrying a fully-fledged werewolf.

Molly sighed and pinched at the front of her temples, lifting her chin blearily to tear her gaze away from Tonks's now peacefully sleeping form, the only indication the young witch was still alive was the steady rise and fall of her chest, and the rattling breaths she took that occasionally caused both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to flinch at.

"Probably worrying himself sick to death over Tonks. I'll find Remus, Arthur. I'm sure he's close by. He might still be back at their home in Wales." Molly strode over towards the door, her wand in the pocket of her housedress, and shivered as she was grateful, she'd worn a long-sleeved knit sweater underneath her dress for warmth, considering how cold St. Mungo's kept their private wards for patient comfort.

She pursed her lips into a thin, rigid line and bit the wall of her right cheek. Mrs. Weasley had just been about to step out into the hallway and make a sharp left turn in search of Tonks's husband when she noticed something kneeling into a crouch, seated across the wall on the opposite end of Tonks's private room. She gasped.

It was Remus.

* * *

Lupin barely stifled a groan as he woke up to the feeling of someone giving his shoulder a sharp shake. He felt as though his eyes at closed, he had not slept at all.

The little world within the confines of the practically deserted St. Mungo's hallway, save for a few straggling Healers making the late-night rounds of the third shift, teased Remus with its silence. Everyone and everything in here was asleep except for Lupin. Time was marked only by the ticking of his wristwatch he wore on his right wrist, and it was long ago that the last of the night filled the sky and it would be another hour or two before the sun crept over the horizon once more to signal the start of a new day.

Remus could only hope that he was not aware of every second of every minute. His mind was constantly regurgitating its worries, what Dora would think of him now. What—what he would _say_ to her after the horrible way that he had spoken to her. Lupin wasn't even sure if Tonks wanted to see him after the venomous words he'd spat. The second he had made it outside her door, he'd felt the strength in his legs leave him and he'd practically collapsed to the floor, slumping to the ground, using only the wall as a support brace. It felt to him as though Time itself had stopped and was suspended.

Tonks was in stable condition, he had been informed by one of the Healers, though it was a battle she was going to have to fight mostly alone as her body adjusted to the new changes it would undergo, more specifically in the weeks leading up to next month's full moon cycle, and perhaps his only consolation, however brief, was that she and a few other Order members, specifically Snape, knew how to brew the Wolfsbane Potion, though it would be up to the two of them to constantly remember to drink it.

Remus found himself unable to move and constantly staring at the closed door, knowing that on the other side of the wooden barrier, in a hospital bed, lay his wife.

His ears practically roared with sound, though he could hear nothing except for a fatigued ringing. He stifled a groan that threatened escape from the confines of his lips and wondered how in the seven bloody hells by Merlin's Beard his life had come to _this_. How, in such a short time, all that he had ever cared about and loved could be brutally ripped away from him because of a fatal error on his part? This was all his fault.

Dora did not deserve this, to become like _him_. His wife should not have to feel such pain. He—he wanted to take it back! Oh, Good Merlin Above, take it all _back_!

Tonks deserved a life of peace. Comfort. Love and kindness. Not…this hellish existence, a damned and cursed life that the Mad Beast within himself had condemned her to. All Dora had ever known when exposed to him from the first time he'd laid eyes on her at an Order meeting was pain, worry, and un-needed strife in her life.

Even knowing what he was, within the first few weeks of Dumbledore pairing the two of them together on missions through that fateful summer after a year of increasingly warm friendship, she had not shirked away from him in fear or disgust.

By defending him and his lifestyle, it had caused this, and now, she was like him. A monster. A Wolf. He did this to her. It was all his fault. He had been careless and had forgotten to take his Wolfsbane Potion and now, it was Tonks who paid the price for it.

And all because he wanted what every other wizard in this world had, that he felt because of his lycanthropy, he was always denied. A mate. A wife. A romantic partner.

He truly was a monster. Every bit a Beast. Remus should have known better than to foolishly pursue Tonks like this when his jealousy had gotten the better of him one night after she'd made a rather off-handed remark about Padfoot that had spiraled into an argument that led to a confession of their true feelings for one another, and then that sweet, blissful kiss. Lupin paused, biting the wall of his cheek as he recollected how soft her lips had felt pressed against his, that first kiss they shared while laying in wait outside a well-known Death's Eater's safe house.

They hadn't exactly done the best job of keeping watch that night, but it had been well worth the scolding from Mad-Eye the next day. Remus allowed the faintest ghost of a smile to flit across his pale features.

Though as quickly as the pleasant memory had filled his mind, it had vanished. What had he _done_?! Ah, but _Merlin_! Why could he not have just left her alone, admired her from afar? It would have been painful to let her go, but surely less painful than this. Lupin swallowed down hard past the lump in his throat as his tears fell faster.

He had caused the one person he loved the most in his otherwise lonely, desolate existence to suffer a horrible fate that, in his mind, was even worse than Death itself.

 _Tonks still may_ , Remus thought bitterly, feeling a wave of cold wash over his wretched, scarred, accursed miserable body as he recognized that he hated himself.

He thought all of these troubling thoughts as he rested on the cold linoleum tile of the St. Mungo's ward just outside of Dora's private room, not sure to go in or not.

 _Monster_ , he thought angrily, grinding his teeth in anger as he tightly squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands, raking his fingers through his thick tuft of light brown hair. _That's what you are for doing this to your wife. A monster. A beast_!

His heart would not stop its beating.

The dark space was endless in this spaceless prison, the confines of his own mind. He wanted nothing more than to drift away into a never-ending dream, but dreams were only a memory in the hell of his new reality. Remus simply wanted to sleep, to check on Dora, make sure she was all right, and…apologize.

Though a surge in his temper flared as he thought of what he had done to his beloved wife, and his toes within his shoes practically curled in ire and frustration. He had promised Tonks that he would support her, be by her side, and he couldn't very well just leave her alone to fend for herself. Not now.

Not when Tonks needed him the most. And though he had formed a new alliance with the Wolf, with Jameson, there was still a small part that could not quite bring himself to fully trust Norah. At least, not yet. He wanted to see how Tonks reacted to Norah first of all.

Who, he had almost forgotten was just another floor down, getting some snacks. He had debated bringing her here, though he suspected the sooner introductions were made, the better. The more Remus thought of Jameson's words earlier, the more they began to take root and make sense in his mind, that the blonde female Wolf was right.

Tonks needed more than just him by her side if she was going to adjust to her new lifestyle as a fully-fledged pregnant lycanthrope. Another woman's influence could only do her a world of good. Or so he hoped. He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat as the violent shaking at his shoulders came again, and muted colors swirled, shapes around Lupin blurred before his vision slowly but surely cleared and came into focus.

Mrs. Weasley was practically kneeling over him, a lock of wavy ginger hair had tumbled in front of her eyes, though with one swift swipe of her thumb, it was moved out of the way and back behind her ear again once more, her wand clutched in hand.

"Remus, are you all right?" Mrs. Weasley breathed in an exclamation, still kneeling down and embracing the broken, battered man as she grunted with the effort to pull Lupin to his feet, though he calmly waved the offer of her hand away, not at all why Molly felt the need to help him. After what he'd done, he deserved no one's help.

She furrowed her ginger brows into a frown and pursed her lips in a thin line.

"You're looking a bit peaky, dear. Are you _sure_ you're all right, Remus? Why were you sitting on the floor out here by yourself? It must be murder on your back! Oh, but your knees must be killing you! There are chairs in there, you know, dear," she added, a morose expression on her lined but still quite a pretty face as she gave a curt jerk of her head towards Dora's closed private hospital room door. "Your wife is sleeping, Lupin."

Remus felt his lips part open slightly to answer her, though before he could so much as utter a single syllable, the ginger-haired mother of seven Weasley children and matriarch of the household back at the Burrow lightly pressed the back of her palm to his cheeks, necks, and then his forehead.

"Hmm," she mumbled contemplatively. "Well, the good news is you don't appear to have a fever or any signs of a concussion." Though her brows came together in quandary even further. "But that still does not explain why you were sitting out here on the floor, dear. Are you ill?"

Lupin sighed and lightly removed her hand from his forehead, brushing away her concerns with a slight wave of his hand. "Molly, please don't worry about me. I'm _fine_ ," he reassured her as he straightened his posture and brushed his hands on the outer layer of his brown jacket, stumbling slightly as he did so, his lids still feeling heavy. "I—I'm just _tired_ , all the… _stress_ from this evening has finally caught up with me, and—"

Though his voice trailed off as he felt a fiery heat creep to his cheeks as he remembered how exhausted he'd felt even just Apparating here to London to St. Mungo's. And how he guilty he felt of his wife, and— _Dora_.

Before Mrs. Weasley could open her mouth to protest further about how pale she thought Remus was looking, Lupin let a low warning growl escape from deep within the confines of his chest and forewent any other unimportant thought in his troubled mind except for his wife.

Molly let out a muffled squeak of surprise as Remus, without any kind of warning, seized a fistful of Mrs. Weasley's house dress and pulled her close, practically clinging onto the older witch and friend as though the ginger-haired mother of seven children was his final lifeline and he hung the shreds of what little sanity was left on her solace.

" _Tonks_! Molly, how is she? How is my wife? Has she woken up yet? How are the wounds? She isn't—she isn't…" Remus swallowed as his voice cracked and faltered, as did his resolve as he felt his grip loosen on the fistfuls of her housedress that he'd seized. _Dead_ , is what Lupin wanted to say, though could not find the resolve within himself to bring himself to say it. A heavy hand found its way back to his face.

His widened light brown eyes were left unblinking, his breathing hitching in his throat, a relatively poor attempt to calm himself, and Remus snapped his eyes tightly shut in an effort to quell the snakelike voice that taunted him at the recesses of his already tormented mind. _This is your fault. What you've done. You don't deserve her_.

"No," he whispered, his cracking voice erupting from him as though it would be the silencer to the demonic, dark voice in his head. His shallow breathing worsened.

Lupin buried his head in his hands, pieces of brown locks sticky in all directions as he entangled his fingers in his hair and tugged on pieces of it slightly in utter anguish.

The poor man and distraught husband was nearly hysterical at this point as his lungs burned as fair as the biting cold of the air-conditioned air thrashed around him at a speed Remus could simply not control. "What have I done to her, Molly? What…?"

The pure rancor and thundering of his heart pounded against his chest so audibly loud, that Lupin was surprised that Molly could not hear it for herself, with her standing directly in front of him as she was.

A horrible, aching, constricting feeling clawed at his throat, intensifying as he shifted with just the slightest movement. But Merlin, why couldn't he _breathe_? Lupin felt sure slick tears would drip from his eyes at any moment as he swallowed hard and fought back briny, salty liquid welling in his eyes. Through his haze of confused, despairing thoughts, a voice spoke to him. A woman. He blinked owlishly at the witch standing in front of him. Mrs. Weasley. She was talking to him.

And this time, instead of a frown, a soft, unaccusing smile graced her tired and lined face, not a scowl of bitterness and hatred for what Remus had done to Tonks.

Though her smile was very obviously strained, showing the tightness under her eyes, which underneath rested prominent dark and purple bags that Lupin suddenly felt incredibly guilty for. She had not slept an ounce tonight, looking after for _his_ wife.

 _I should have been the one to be here for my wife, not her_ , Remus thought, and this furtive, guilty thought coursing through his mind only intensified, though the smile Mrs. Weasley was currently offering him was very much real. Warm and kind.

Molly had brought him back. Had pulled him out of the darkness of his heart.

"Remus, calm down," Molly interrupted him in full-flow of his steady stream of panicked and agitated thoughts. Her hands came up to clamp firmly down on his shoulders. Her voice had hardened, and she responded to his questions in a clipped and curt tone, and there was a hint of steel in the older witch's voice that told him to listen.

Molly fixed Lupin with a pointed look before emanating a tense exhale and continuing.

"Your wife is going to be just _fine_ , Remus. She's asleep, she hasn't woken up yet that I know of. Arthur is in there sitting with her now just in case she wakes. Her wounds are relatively minor, save for the one at her neck. That is where most of the Healers' concerns and mine lie and will be her most difficult challenge to overcome. Her life is no longer in any imminent danger unless the infection at her neck worsens."

Poor Remus merely proceeded to blink and stare Mrs. Weasley as though she'd just produced an Erumpent from the pocket of her housedress.

Molly sighed and could just imagine the sparks in Remus's brain, desperately trying to connect the dots and make the connection to what Mrs. Weasley had just told him, and instead, short-circuited. Lupin's eyes were trained on some invisible specter behind Molly's head, his heavy eyelids a fraction too slow to blink, his irises far too stationary to be normal. Though slowly, Remus's head tilted upward to Mrs. Weasley's face, his eyes slowly sliding into focus. "Infection," he repeated slowly and steadily, with a tone of disbelief lacing into his otherwise quiet, reserved, and quite kind, gentle voice.

Mrs. Weasley flinched as Lupins' voice cracked and wavered on the word itself, his fears resurfacing tenfold this time, and if she could not talk him down from his panicked state of mind, there was no telling in her mind what Remus would do to himself now. For all she knew, he might be so overcome with guilt that he'd hurt himself. And that, she simply could _not_ allow to happen, given Tonks needed Remus.

Molly was quick to recognize the panic-induced swell of terror that pricked at the distraught werewolf's heart and was brimming, glistening as unshed moisture in his light brown eyes, though she could not allow Remus to lose his composure again tonight.

Not now. Steeling herself and clenching her jaw, she gave him a sharp shake by his shoulders.

"Remus, _listen_ to me, dear. Tonks is going to be just fine, love, but in good faith, Arthur and I cannot allow you to see your wife if you are unable to reign in control of your emotions. Tonks is still sleeping, at least she was the last time I checked, but if she wakens, and she senses you panicking at her current condition, it's going to cause her copious amounts of stress, which will only succeed in exacerbating her wounds. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Lupin? I need you to remain _calm_."

Lupin blinked, nodding his head slowly at all of the information as his frazzled brain attempted to process Mrs. Weasley's words. She was right. As usual.

Tonks needed rest, care, and if he could not manage to temper down his panic, he was only going to make things worse for his wife.

The last thing he wanted right now was to further cause Dora more pain. _Molly said her life was no longer in any danger. She's going to live. She's going to recover. Your wife is going to be just fine_. He repeated these phrases like a mantra in his mind, hoping it would be enough to temper himself.

"How long do they think her recovery will take, Molly?" he begged desperately.

"About two weeks, but more likely a month," Mrs. Weasley replied cautiously, still carefully gauging his reaction to see if her response would further incite more panic within Remus. When it did not, at least not any visible distress that she could see, Molly exhaled a tense and slightly shaking sigh of relief and continued. "If the infection at her neck clears up, then two weeks. But if it persists, her recovery will take longer. Arthur told me earlier as did the lead Healer assigned to her case that she's in extraordinary health, all things considered. The Healer hopes the infection will clear in less than a week, and he provided you with these," she murmured, procuring from the pocket of her house dress a small bottle of the same foul-smelling ointment that Madame Pomfrey and Fleur had dabbed onto her eldest son Bill's wounds when he'd been savagely attacked by Greyback during the Battle of the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts, though Fenrir Greyback had not been transformed at the time of the maiming of her eldest son. "It won't reduce the scarring, but it might help ease discomfort," Molly further explained, and waved her wand so the bottle vanished. "it's at home on your kitchen table when you two get back home in another few days."

Lupin nodded, not even bothering to stop the ghost of a smile that flitted across his ashen features. "No matter what mess Tonks gets herself into, she's always recovered fast. She's strong, Mrs. Weasley. Stronger than…stronger than most give her credit for."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and offered a nod of her head in agreement. "That she is, dear," sounding utterly exhausted, though the gentle smile she offered Remus was genuine and did not seem forced. "Trust me when I tell you that everything will be fine. Tonks is going to pull through this, and your baby too will be safe, I think…"

"May I see her?" Remus asked, unable to keep the note of hope out of his voice or stop the small ember flame that had started out as merely a flicker against the winds of despair and hopelessness, from spreading like a fiery warmth into the pit of his stomach.

He reflected over the She-Wolf's words. _Your child will not be a werewolf_ and just hearing the young blonde Jameson woman's voice in his head caused the flame to ignite even higher and soar as now a fully-fledged pit of warmth in his scarred chest.

Mrs. Weasley paused, though sensing the sudden countenance and shift in the man's attitude caused the matronly witch to slump her shoulders and nod her head.

"Very well, dear," she relented after a long and somewhat uncomfortable pause, though it did not stop Molly from fixing Remus with a pointed look. "But remember what I said. You must stay calm. Dora cannot heal if constantly exposed to stress."

Remus nodded mutely, and Molly stepped back and allowed Remus to enter Dora's private hospital room on the floor for Magical Bites and Injuries. Mrs. Weasley mumbled something incoherent as Arthur promptly vacated the seat next to Tonks's bedside that he had been occupying, and moved to join his wife to head for home at last after such a long, stressful night, though as Mr. Weasley's shoulder accidentally brushed against his, Lupin was reminded of something that he'd almost forgotten, and before Arthur could make his exit with Molly, he flung out his arm and caught Arthur by his arm before relinquishing his grip.

"There's a…young blonde woman on the floor below us in the waiting lobby. Last I saw her she was kicking at the vending machine with her boot and causing some odd looks from one of the guards for cussing up a storm since the machine wouldn't take her Knut for a Chocolate Frog," he snorted, repressing the urge to roll his eyes. "This young woman, she is…like _us_ ," he began hesitantly, wildly gesturing to his and Dora's scars with his hands, feeling heat creep to his cheeks. "Her name is Norah Jameson. She's going to act as something of a support person for Tonks when she…during her healing and as Tonks's pregnancy progresses," he finished lamely, biting the inside wall of his cheek. "Arthur or Molly. Will you send for her and tell her to wait outside the room until I'm ready to send Norah in, please?"

If Arthur and Molly were surprised by his request, the pair of them hid it well and quickly nodded their heads and offered their goodbyes, gently closing the door behind them as they left. Paying attention to nothing else in the room, he made a beeline straight for Tonks and sat on the chair that Arthur had just vacated, pulling it closer.

Lupin inhaled a deep breath and forced his attention to focus on the only thing that mattered. His Dora. His sweet, beloved wife. Her petite form was wrapped tightly in at least two or three heated blankets, it would seem. Tonks's already pale skin had lost its healthy sheen, which troubled him, though the steady rise and fall of her breast as she slept confirmed to Remus that his wife was still alive.

Occasionally, her eyes would give the briefest of twitches beneath their lids, which made him wonder if she was experiencing a dream or nightmare that he knew he could not see but had he the power, he would extract all the dark thoughts from the confines of her mind and keep them for himself.

If anything, so as to not have his wife suffer anymore on his account.

His heart lurched and clenched at that unpleasant thought. He did not want Tonks to suffer any more than she already had. No more thoughts of darkness, blood, of death. Tentatively, Remus found his hand moving of its own volition and tucked several stray wisps of her now raven-black pixie cut. He furrowed his brows, thinking the dark contrast of such a bold color against the skin so pale almost made Tonks look washed out.

He wondered if he was the cause for her hair changing color. Had she woken up at some point through the night, and noticed that he had not been by her side? Was this out of mourning for the lifestyle that she was going to have to leave behind soon?

What was the cause of the change? As he continued his gentle caressing of several wisps of her short pixie back behind her ear where they rightfully belonged, the pads of his calloused fingertips accidentally brushed alongside the contour of her right earlobe.

His movements stilled instantly as Tonks shifted in her sleep, turning her head to the left slightly and her head lolled back, exposing the pale column of her throat.

Remus flinched as he got a good, long look at the wound on her neck and gasped, though he was relieved the noise did not wake Tonks.

The pink jagged lines of the Beast's claws had ripped into the skin of her flesh, and though the Healers and Molly had done what they could for her, his wife would bear these scars for the rest of her life. Lupin gave her hand a gentle squeeze as if to reaffirm to his wife that she was safe and he was here for her now, though he startled when he heard Tonks speak to him.

"…not…your…fault…don't…go…" Remus blinked and felt his heart nearly come to a stop right there on the spot at the amount of fear laced in her tired voice.

Though she still did not wake from sleep. She was…afraid he would _leave_ her!

Remus had no intention of leaving his wife, as Norah Jameson's words from earlier continued to ring in his mind, refusing to leave him or part from his thoughts.

 _Your baby will not be a werewolf_. Feeling the small spark of hope continue to grow and spread throughout his chest as a spiraling warmth of relief flooded his system, he was sure slick tears would slip from his eyes at any moment, though this time, as he felt the wetness begin to sting and prick at the corners of his vision, he didn't stop it.

He was just going to have to make his wife see that he would always be here for her and that Remus was going to be the first thing Tonks saw when she woke up later. Remus decided that he would be here. Just for her. "Don't worry, love," Lupin whispered into the shell of her ear as he carefully leaned over in his chair and gently pressed his lips to hers. "I won't leave you, Dora. I'm going to be here when you wake up. I promise."

A tiny smile ghosted across his features as he could have _sworn_ Tonks smiled back, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly in sleep as she nestled and burrowed deeper into the pillow and blankets. Once he was confident his wife wasn't going to wake prematurely from much-needed sleep, he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, keeping his head tilted towards his wife's sleeping, silent form.

No matter what happened, he was going to be here for her when she woke up. He'd promised his wife.

And his time, he vowed to keep that promise.


	7. Amends

** CHAPTER SEVEN **

There was a tight, horrible constricting on her throat that was bound and _determined_ to suck the very last breath from her lungs. Tonks felt her eyelids blink open, though slowly, and the horrible, burning ache in her throat only worsened.

Her entire body felt heavy, and Tonks blinked again, her sight clearing a little bit through the haze of crusted sleep that had gathered during the night around her eyes.

From what she could tell, the hospital room here in St. Mungo's was incredibly dark, or maybe it was still dark out? How long had she been asleep? What time was it?

Too many tired questions swirling around in her exhausted mind and not enough answers. Tonks could have sworn, she was sure, yes, she was _sure_ that she had heard Molly and Arthur speaking to her at some point throughout the night, but had that all been a figment of her imagination? Tonks made a noise that sounded like a cross between a grunt and a moan as she raised a pale and trembling hand to her face.

Pain seared through her abdomen better than a branding iron, her mind conceding to the torment, unable to bring a thought to completion in her mind, much less part her lips open just slightly to call for help, and even though she wanted to, her throat felt dry and on fire, and her tongue felt like sandpaper. The pain in her neck wasn't sharp like needlepoint or a knife, oh, _no_. No. This was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before, burning around the inside of her neck better than boiling water.

Worse than the Cruciatus Curse, everything felt scalded, and move or not, Tonks was in more pain than she could have ever imagined possible. The Killing Curse would be mercy right now, but hopefully, one of the Healers would stop by later with another Sleeping Draught and a Calming Draught. An increase in the allotted potions dosage was the best that she could hope for, given the serious scope of her injuries.

Letting out a barely audible groan that was more of a breathy whisper, just that simple movement was enough to cause her to become fully aware of the horrible, aching and yet numbing stiffness that seemed to engulf her entire body, and seep into her bones and joints like a deathly poison, paralyzing her from speech or movement.

Though if she was being entirely honest with herself at the moment, she found that she didn't really want to move. The stillness in it of itself was welcoming and considering how just even attempting to twitch her fingers and toes ached, she decided not to chance to move around too much just yet. There would be time for that later.

Tonks blew out a puff of air and forced her head to settle back against her pillow. Her fingers moved and felt the soft pillow behind her head, and her body remained numb, uncertain, and… _painful_. Trying desperately to move as she could have _sworn_ she caught the sound of movement nearby, she heaved her shoulder to lie facing up and hissed as the numbness seared and slowly but surely, she regained feeling in her limbs.

Parts of her skin felt…sticky and moist, especially the bandaged area near her neck. Tonks pressed an elbow against the bed and forced herself upright, and slowly, as she was able, it seemed that everything had become lighter somehow, save for a dull aching throb on her right temple that seemed to persist, threatening to crack her skull open. A noise to her immediate left, a sudden intake of breath that did not belong to her, startled her out of her drowsiness, and her pale gray orbs widened and grew round with shock and a newfound sense of alertness, wanting to see who was in the room with her.

Her eyes flitted across the dimly lit hospital room in astonishment, trying to ignore the pricking stab of fear that caused her stomach to lurch and a coil in her gut to twist. She knew from past stories and previous experiences that Remus told her that once a stranger found out that someone suffered from lycanthropy, they were treated differently, and Tonks did not know exactly what to expect in this instance, per se, given she guessed this was her first day as a fully-fledged werewolf who suffered from lycanthropy, but she hoped that the causation of her admittance into St. Mungo's ward for Magical Creature Bites and Injuries were to remain _private_ between herself, her immediate family, and the lead Healer assigned to ensure that she adequately recovered.

As Tonks sat up slowly, trying to ignore the pounding dullness in her head, as the blanket that had been wrapped around her chest began to unravel, the throbbing and numbness vanished, almost completely, for which the young wife was grateful for.

Instead, shock and utter confusion took over as she lifted her hands to her face to study them, staring at an ugly purpling bruise on the top of her right wrist, another on her left, something that resembled a claw. _His claw_ , Tonks thought and bit the wall of her cheek to keep from crying out in pain. It ached when she touched it, and sent a swell of pain up her arm, and then suddenly, her entire body ached and screamed for relief.

The pain felt as though it were increasing in waves, small lulls giving false hope of an end. Each peak robbed Tonks's ability to speak, sending her retreating inside herself.

It was as though the blood in her veins had become acidic, burning, and intent of destroying her from the inside out. All she could do was writhe, the occasional whimper escaping to echo off the walls, and before Tonks could allow a single, wretched, accursed tear to escape her lids, there the noise came again louder this time.

The sound startled her, and Tonks swallowed down hard past the lump in her throat as an icy coldness snaked its tendrils across her chest and her heart thrummed erratically in her chest, so damned audibly loud and fast that she was surprised it didn't try to flee.

She didn't know who or what was in the room with her! If it were the Healer or Mrs. Weasley, either one of them would have announced their presence to Tonks.

This fear continued to spread throughout her chest, chilling her insides. At least, that was until Tonks cocked her head to the side and turned towards her immediate left, and she glimpsed an all-too-familiar tuft of light brown hair flecked with bits of gray and felt a strong, tempered hand of Remus's firm grip clutching tightly onto her right hand.

"R—Remus?" she whispered hoarsely, a shaking hand outstretched towards him, wanting to touch him, to ghost the pads of her fingers along with one of his cheeks, as if to prove to herself that her husband was really _here_ , by her side, at long last. "Finally."

Her husband had pulled up a chair as close to the edge of her hospital's bedside as he could come without disturbing her while she'd slept soundly in her bed. He was asleep.

Somehow, whenever Lupin slept, he almost looked… _younger_. The premature gray in the thirty-five-year-old's hair did not seem quite as prominent in his thick tuft of light brown hair, and all the lines of stress and worry over her physical condition had seemingly vanished, leaving Remus's pale skin smooth, unwrinkled, and almost taut. The hand that had been holding to hers as though she were his only lifeline upon which he'd hung the last shreds of his sanity would occasionally give her hand a squeeze as if to reassure Tonks that Lupin was not going anywhere, that he was right here by her side. His mouth was pursed into a thin, rigid line and occasionally his eyelids would twitch, though he didn't wake, though the moment the utterance of his name left her lips, the man-made a gruff sound as he woke up and slowly opened his eyes to reveal his familiar, kind light brown eyes that were always flecked with tints of gold at the beginning and ending days of his monthly transformations.

_And now mine too, I guess_ , she thought, and visibly flinched as Lupin woke up and she bit down hard on her tongue. _Damn. I woke him up_. "I—I'm sorry, Rem," Tonks whispered hoarsely in a small and meek-sounding voice, amazed she could talk at all. _He must have been so tired, staying up with me all night! Did he sleep any at all_?

Tonks suddenly felt immensely guilty for waking Remus up. "I—I didn't mean to startle you and wake you up. Go back to sleep, Rem," Tonks whispered soothingly.

"Dora?" Remus's voice was hoarse and quiet, more reserved than usual, his eyes still half-lidded from sleep as she heard her husband let out a groan and shifted in his chair. Lupin still did not relinquish his firm, ironclad grip on her left hand, with his other, he lifted his hand and slowly allowed it ghost down the pale, lined features of his face. Suddenly, just as his hand reached the edges of his lips, turned downward in a frown, his hand stilled, frozen in midair and his light brown eyes widened in realization. " _Dora_!" Remus immediately dropped his hand from his face and rose off the chair he'd been occupying to sit on the edge of Tonks's hospital bed, so she wouldn't have to shift at the waist so much or strain to see her husband. "Here. Do you want to sit up?"

Tonks nodded, though she lacked the strength in her voice to adequately answer.

"Here," he murmured, a note of urgency in his quiet, tenor-like tones as he carefully leaned over the bed and held the small of her back with one hand, the other fluffing the pillow as much as he could before gingerly laying her back on the mattress.

His light brown eyes were glistening with unshed moisture that was not exactly tears, and Remus seemed to be searching hers for something that she was not sure what. Lupin lifted his free hand not currently wrapped around her waist as he moved to join his wife and rested on the edge of her bed, smoothing the bangs of her short pixie cut back away from her forehead, looking at her as though he'd just witnessed an act of Merlin Himself.

"You're awake," he breathed, eyeing his wife as though he could not quite believe it. Tonks almost frowned at the way Remus was regarding her at the moment, as if she were fragile, made of the most delicate of china, and looking at her like he had never seen anything quite like her before, like…like she were the most beautiful thing in his world. "Oh, thank _Merlin_. I—I thought…that I'd lost you."

Tonks did not bother to stifle the small half-smile that crept its way onto her pale features, though even just twitching the corners of her mouth upward hurt like hell.

"W—well, I didn't plan to stay asleep forever, Rem. N—not when you and I are going to become parents, love. Just because… _this_ ," she added lamely, gesturing towards her neck, wincing as Remus's already pale face became even more ashen than before at the way she gestured towards her wounds, "changes my life now doesn't mean that I'm going to let it keep me from living the best life that you and I can, sweetheart, Rem."

Lupin suddenly furrowed his brows into a frown, stilling his hand that had found purchase in the back of her hair, absentmindedly playing with a few of her strands, his expression flitting between elation that his wife was awake and coherent, to horrified.

Tonks frowned and bit the wall of her cheek, sensing that something was wrong with her husband, and did not like the sudden shift in Remus's countenance at all.

"Rem?" she whispered in a hoarse voice, confused. Her stomach painfully churned and twisted, and Tonks swallowed down hard past the lump in her throat as she could taste the bitter acidic lining of her stomach creeping up her esophagus as disgusting bile.

When Remus did not immediately respond, Tonks began to grow even more worried. "Love, _please talk to me_ ," she pleaded, grunting in frustration to free herself from the twisted entanglement of her bedsheets. She scowled, wondering if she had tossed and turned in her sleep. " _Please_ , Rem, just tell me what's _wrong_! I—I can help you, but you _have_ to let me in. I'm your _wife_ , remember? Talk to me. I'm _with_ you."

A strong arm suddenly shot out and wrapped underneath Tonks's shoulders, lifting her upward from her perch on the bed, urgently but gently, careful to be mindful of her injuries, and pulled her right shoulder into the crook of his. Lupin's hand that was currently clutching onto her own in an iron-like grip let go for only a second, to be replaced with his other hand, his left, where she could see her poor husband shaking.

Violently. Something was _definitely_ bothering him, but… _why_? Just as Tonks felt her lips part open slightly to speak, she let out a tiny squeak as she suddenly found herself abruptly removed of the covers of her hospital bed from the waist up and clutched tightly in Remus's strong embrace, her head resting underneath Lupin's chin.

Tonks sat still for a moment, wide-eyed in shock and too stunned to formulate a response. She remained unstirred and stock-still for a moment, completely stunned.

Then, though not fully understanding why her beloved husband was in such a state of distress, considering at the moment, she was just relieved to be alive and breathing, Tonks freed her hand from his and wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him down slightly and forcing Remus to meet her gaze, coming one of her hands through his thick tuft of hair, and the pads of her fingertips ghosted down the skin of his neck in such a tender way that was sending what she hoped was a pleasant tremor down his spine, what little comfort she could provide to her husband at the moment, she would.

Tonks would do whatever it took to make Remus see that what had happened to her was _not_ his fault, and it would never _be_ his fault. The young witch whispered soothing remarks into the shell of his ear and gently rubbed small circles on the small of his back, trying to relay what comfort she could, in the hopes of calming Lupin down. She frowned, thinking that it should have come to her as no surprise, to see him like this. Just last night, because of an _accident_ , her whole life had changed drastically. Permanently.

It was a wonder, a true miracle of Merlin that she had survived the mauling. Hot tears soaked through the shoulder of her shirt, drenching her in sticky water and salt, and Tonks froze. He…was _crying_. _For_ her. _Because_ of her, what she did. Tonks bit down hard on her tongue that she tasted the metallic tang of iron on her tongue and palette and blinked back briny, salty liquid of her own that gathered at the corners of her eyes, welling, stinging, and blurring her vision. "Remus, I…it's not…"

_Not your fault_ is what she wanted to say, though when she tried, the words simply would not come to her. When she tried to speak, her tongue felt thick in her mouth.

Like someone had put a gag over her mouth, her voice sounded meek. Muffled. Tonks did not have a chance to try to speak again, and blinked, shaking her head to clear her mind as she realized that Remus needed the comfort right now more than her.

Remus, throughout the course of their courtship and marriage, had gone to such incredible lengths as her husband to care for her, to protect her, and it seemed only right that she tries to do the same for him. After all, Tonks loved him, more than anything, and it hurt like hell to see her love like this, in such emotional pain.

So, Tonks held Remus firmly to her, as gingerly as she could, trying to not let her wounds brush against any appendages in accidental contact, rubbing circles on his back and his shoulders, stroking his hair in the way that she knew he'd always liked, whispering what she hoped were soothing remarks into the shell of the man's ear.

That she was fine, when they both knew she most assuredly was not at all fine, that all was well for now, though even Tonks had trouble believing the lies that spewed out of her own mouth, the young witch knew they were what Remus needed to hear.

Tonks knew she needed to hold onto Lupin and let her husband know that no matter what, she wasn't going anywhere, was not about to just up and abandon him.

He _needed_ her, just as _she_ needed _him_. They would get through this and be all the stronger for it. "I…I think you and I…n—need to talk about last night. Don't we?"

Remus pulled apart from her embrace first, leaning back slightly to study her face, and Tonks almost wished that he would not have because Lupin was looking at her right now with such anguish in his light brown eyes that Tonks could hardly bear it.

"I…" he stammered, biting down on his bottom lip, hesitating. "Yes." When he spoke, his voice was so soft and hoarse, that had Tonks not already been hanging onto the man's every movement made and syllable uttered from his lips, she'd have missed it.

"I… _I_ am the one who should apologize, do you hear me? _Not_ you. _Never_ you," Tonks tried her hardest to harden her voice, though she was unable to prevent the crack in her voice as she blinked back briny tears, inwardly flinching at the weakness. "I'm right here where I'm sitting. I—I'm not anywhere else, and I don't _want_ to be anywhere else right now if it means that I cannot have _you_ by my side, Rem," she said.

Tonks winced as she felt Lupin's fingers grip almost painfully tight on her waist, clutching onto the material of her shirt for support. Another sob willfully found its way through the confines of his chest and lips and he shook violently. She couldn't tell if it was fear, relief, or sorrow that was wracking its wretched way through his broken body.

Probably a combination of all three, plus more than that. What Remus had gone through last night, the sheer anguish and the guilt he must have felt at what the Wolf had done, no man or woman should ever have to experience. Tonks let out a tired sigh.

Tonks continued, biting down on her lip. "I—it was wrong of me, to announce that I was pregnant to you the way that I did. I—I should have waited, and I should have come to you sooner with my news, Rem." Tonks bit down on her tongue, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to leave her gray eyes.

And that's when she couldn't. The first one crystal small bead escaped from her right eye. She could feel the warmth, sliding down her cheek, rolling her chin. Then another. And another one. Until her eyes practically flooded with them, coming down her cheeks like a rainfall. Sniffing every ten or eleven seconds, they fall, and fall, and Tonks allowed it.

"I'm so _sorry_ ," Lupin whispered hoarsely into the shell of her ear, still clinging to her as though he thought his wife was his lifeline, not willing or perhaps Remus was unable to let go of Tonks, for fear she would up and leave him, vanish before his eyes. His voice was trembling, and his entire body was shaking, that Tonks briefly wondered if the Healer would give her husband a Calming Draught in addition to her. "All of this is my—my fault, Dora…"

With her head still tucked firmly under Lupin's chin, Tonks shook it in disagreement, enough so that she knew Remus could feel every movement of hers.

"Rem, don't _do_ this to yourself. There is _nothing_ to apologize for, sweetheart. _None_ of this was your fault, not for an _instant_. It was an _accident_. And as for my news, I…" But a violent coughing spell broke off what she had about to say, and she could practically feel Remus's wide stare as she turned her head to the side and coughed, and it was a minute or two before she regained the ability to speak. "If anyone is to blame for what has happened, it's _me_. I—I should have done as you said and stayed home. It's not your fault, Rem, and it will _never_ be your fault, do you hear me?" Tonks soothed.

Sensing her husband was not convinced, Tonks grasped both hands in his and gave them a light, reassuring squeeze. She sensed Remus's hesitation, that Lupin was not going to make the first step towards reconciliation and a tentative understanding.

Though if she were being honest with herself, Tonks knew he should be the one to. For _she_ had not been the one to react poorly to the fact they were becoming parents in about nine months, give or take. Tonks let out a tired sigh and rested her forehead against his.

He must have disagreed with her, because her husband's next words sent chills of fear coursing through her, rendering the blood in her veins to ice.

"But it _is_ my fault, Dora, how can you not _see_ that?!" Remus snapped, and Tonks flinched as she could practically feel the very anger seep into his kind, quiet tone.

She pulled back slightly and had to crane her neck up to look Lupin in the eyes.

"I—if you had never known me then _none_ of this would have happened, Dora. You—you should have stayed well the hell away from me when you first met me in the Order. If you have kept your distance from me, you would be _safe_. You wouldn't be _hurt_ , a fully-fledged werewolf and pregnant, because of _me_! You'd be better off _without_ _me_!" Remus shouted, his voice raising an octave, fresh tears spilling down his pale face.

"Stop this!" she admonished; her voice came out far sharper than she intended. Tonks pulled away and though she knew he needed to hold her; she was not going to let him talk to her like this. She looked up as his red, tear-stained face and the sight nearly had her reeling back in tears of her own.

Yet she held them back. For _his_ sake.

"How _dare_ you speak to me like that?" she yelled, brushing away her own tears with a sharp flick of her finger. Tonks did not realize how shocked and hurt she was until she heard the wounded tone in her normally shy voice. "You saved my life. Were it not for you, I would be dead, Remus…"

If her words had any effect on him, Remus did not let it show. A fact that was beginning to frighten her.

"I would rather you never have known me than to have you laying here injured and ill because of my existence," he spat bitterly. Now his tone was full of self-loathing.

It felt as if Tonks's heart forgot how to beat and the icy feeling from before returned tenfold. She gazed at him, wide-eyed in shock and horror. " _Excuse_ me? W—what are you saying? You don't mean that!"

"Your life," he said quietly, encircling both his arms around her in his protective embrace and reached up one of his hands to tuck a wisp of blonde hair behind her ear, smiling softly at her, though it did not reach his eyes. "Means more to me than my own miserable _existence_ , Tonks. Knowing me has only caused you great pain and hardship. I swore to myself that I would be cautious, that I would not be careless and allow It to hurt you." He paused painfully, tears welling up in his blue eyes once more, and, at this moment, he lifted his head to meet her piercing gaze. "But I was not able to. I failed you. What kind of husband and father would I be to you and our child if I cannot—"

"Okay, I'm going to stop you right there!" she shouted, willing for him to stay this madness, to stop talking crazy, but he cut her off.

" **NO**!" he shouted firmly, his eyes ablaze with anger. "It was because of me that you are hurt! Because I exist, you almost _died_! I don't deserve to have you in my life!"

Tonks gazed at him in bewildered shock for several moments. She looked as though he had slapped her, understanding just what his words meant but choosing rather not to believe them. Then, for perhaps the first time in her life, Tonks felt genuine anger and fury towards him. She was angry with him.

"Don't you dare!" she growled, her blue eyes blazing. She clenched her fists so tightly, the skin of her knuckles turning bone white. "Don't you _dare_ speak to me like that! After everything that has happened, how can you still think _you_ are the cause of what happened here tonight? You're _safe_ , and I am _alive_. That is good enough for me, Remus and so it should be for you as well. Is it not? What _more_ do you _want_?"

"Tonks, I…" he tried to placate, reaching for one of her hands.

Yet she pulled away from him, far too angry with him to be soothed. "What was I supposed to have done?"

"You should have stayed well away from me, Tonks…. because…because… Because I cannot lose you again. You've given me no other choice," Lupin replied softly, no longer looking at her.

Instant guilt flooded her, and Tonks looked away and hung her head in shame for making such a fuss. Yet, at the same time, she knew it had to be this way.

"Remus," she said slowly, raising her head, her expression much gentler and her tone no longer harsh. She leaned forward and carefully cradled his head in her hands, gently guiding him to look her in the eyes. "I am alive. I'm safe, for now," she added, scrunching her nose as a twinge of white-hot pain shot up her injured side.

Then he lifted his blue eyes to her, and with the greatest of ease, took both her wrists in his hands and pried them away from his face. Turning the pale, tiny appendages in his hands, he said, "All my life, I knew what I was. A Beast. A monster. And yet…you saw past that the first night you met me. How is it you see past that?"

Tonks opened her mouth to explain, to give him the answers he sought, yet he shook his head, implying he was not yet finished. "When I found you, just before you…almost died, lying lifeless on the forest floor in front of me, I…" Remus continued, his voice cracking and tears welling from the corners of his eyes again.

He reached across the space that divided them and drew her close to him, closing off the gap and folded his arms around her. "It was the most frightening experience of my life. I could not bear a world without you in it by my side, Dora, and never ask me to. Do not ask that of me, _ever_ , for that is something I will not willingly do, love."

Tonks sighed softly and burrowed her face in his chest, holding onto him just as tightly. "You don't anymore, Remus. I'm right here with you still. I will not abandon you. _Ever_. I love you, remember?" she whispered, teasing him a little.

As soon as the last syllable escaped her lips, they found themselves locked in a kiss. The tender touch they shared made the room around them disappear. There was not anything else in the world except the burning flame of their love.

Something about this feeling made them both feel like everything would be okay in the end. When they broke apart, they rested each other's foreheads against the other and just sat on the bed, just holding each other. For how long, who could say?

They did not speak, just sat together with their arms wrapped around the other, relaying comfort and love in the only way they knew how. Remus breathed out a heavy sigh of relief, but the feeling quickly faded as he glanced down at her face, still cradling her in his arms.

Her eyes have frozen over like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of their usual warmth. She's still in there, he knew it, but it was like she just took a huge step back from life. He wanted to reach in and tell her it wasn't hopeless, that they were going to get out of this, but even Remus knew she wouldn't believe him. Remus wanted nothing more than to rekindle her heat, but her insides were too damp with un-cried tears.

Lupin always knew she had pain inside, but now it was visible on her face and in the seeping flesh wound that was staining her shirt, and he wished it would go away. Remus knew that was a selfish want, people have a right to their pain, they don't ask for it - it just arrives like the gift you never wanted. But…Tonks was alive.

Their baby would _not_ be a fully-fledged wolf. Tonks was _alive_. Remus, sensing she needed comfort, pulled her close, and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder.

"I'm right here, Tonks. I'm not going anywhere. I promise," Remus whispered, leaning over, brushing a lock of her blonde over her shoulder so he could murmur it into the shell of her ear, and then, he did something bold, but something he had wanted to do for the longest time. Looking into his eyes, Tonks saw deep pools that displayed his very soul. His lips touched her cheek. Time stopped. Her heart gave a few flutters before coming to a complete halt. Her breath caught in her throat.

Their fingers locked together, like puzzle pieces. _A perfect fit_ , she thought wildly. _He and I are meant for each other. He is mine…and I am his_. _Forever_.

As the soft skin of his mouth left the side of her face, the exact spot where they had come into contact burned and tingled. A hot blazing fire pulsed through Tonks's body, warming her. A tiny grin crept onto her face and her cheeks flushed a bright pink.

Lupin pulled away silently, but their eyes locked, having a private conversation of their own. Somehow, Tonks knew, as long as she was with Remus and he was right by her side during her healing, that she was going to be fine. And he knew it too.

After a moment spent in silence, Lupin made an odd little noise at the back of his throat to get Tonks's attention. Slowly, careful to be mindful not to exacerbate the wound on the column of her throat, Tonks slowly swiveled her head to look at him.

"There's…someone that I would like you to meet, Dora, if you're feeling up to receiving visitors today?" he asked, biting the wall of his cheek, and waiting for her to nod. When she did, her curiosity piqued, Tonks heard Lupin emanate a tense exhale of relief through his nose. "She—her name is Norah Jameson, love. She came to our house earlier this morning, practically begging me for my help. She's…like _us_. A... a werewolf. A few years younger than me. Her—her son is _not_ a wolf, Dora. Not like his parents. The father is a werewolf, just as his mother is. She—she said that she would…she would help you if we would help her find her missing three-year-old son, who was taken from her by Greyback. I—I don't think that our child, our baby, will be like us, sweetheart."

_Fenrir Greyback_. Just the very name _irked_ Tonks and sent her spine feeling weak, and Remus noticed the involuntary shudder that traveled down his wife's spine and frowned. "I—if you are not comfortable with this, Dora, then I can—we can make other arrangements. I—I'm sure there's someone else for help that we could go to. My father, he might be able to—" Lupin started to say but became silenced the second Tonks held her hand up.

" _Don't_." It was just a one-word response, and Tonks flinched at how curt and clipped her tone sounded, and she winced, shirking away as Remus momentarily pulled back in a sense of antagonizing hurt.

Recognizing her words came out harsher than she intended, Tonks forced a smile onto her face, though that hurt as hell, given her wounds, and gave Lupin's gentle shoulder a squeeze. "You've said enough. I will hear her out. We have to help her, Rem. If…if what she says is true, that our son or daughter will not be born like us, then…I trust her. If she was kind enough for you to allow her entry into our home, then...she must not be that bad. I... _hope_ ," Tonks admitted, though there was a roughness in his wife's tone that Lupin was not at all sure what to make of, nor was he certain that he particularly liked in her.

Lupin hesitated, biting down on his bottom lip, his eyes desperately searching hers for the truth. "So," he began after a long moment spent in uncomfortable silence. "You'll let her _help_ _you_ , Dora?" he questioned, quirking a brow in his wife's direction.

Tonks nodded, though a flicker of something unreadable passed through her eyes.

When she spoke, her voice sounded strangely flat. "Yes. Send her in."


	8. A Tense First Meeting

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Norah exhaled a small, tense exhale through her nostrils, flaring like that of an enraged bull's as she raised her white-boned knuckles to gingerly knock on the door of the private room of Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin's hospital room here in St. Mungo's.

A dumpy sort of red-haired woman and her mate, with hair as equally vibrant red in color, had found her one floor down, still struggling with the damned vending machine, and had found Norah in a rather precarious position as she was arguing practically nose-to-nose with one of the St. Mungo's staff members about how it was unacceptable for a young woman such as herself to use her wand to magically retrieve Chocolate Frogs from the vending machine after the damned bloody wretched device wouldn't take her Knut. The pair of them, shyly and somewhat apprehensively, had introduced themselves as Molly and Arthur Weasley, with the red-haired man stepping in between Norah and the staff member before the two witches were about to come to blows over a piece of candy.

Norah had remained apprehensive until the pair of them were quick to explain that Remus Lupin had sent for her and requested her to wait outside the room until called. That had been enough to diffuse the young blonde's temper, though Norah was not one so quick as to forget a grudge, though the werewolf had gotten the last word. All it had taken was one toothy grin and flashing off her still sharpened canines and incisors for Norah to emerge victoriously and the clear winner of this little _spat_ surrounding Norah's delish chocolate.

The St. Mungo's receptionist had promptly let out a squeak of terror and told Norah to take the damn Chocolate Frog. Norah had taken three as payment for having to listen to the other witch's incessant screeching that sounded worse than nails on a chalkboard. Three Frogs in total.

One for herself, one for Lupin, the other for Tonks. Norah furrowed her brows into a frown and huffed in frustration as she rested against the wall of the corridor outside of Mrs. Lupin's room, one leg crossed over the other, her concentration fixated solely on unwrapping her chocolate treat and eating it. There was something in the dark brown sweet she had always found enticing, and the taste of it on her tongue and palate was truly delish.

The way chocolate glistened when it melted. The way it crumbled when hard. It was utterly exotic, made from a far grown cocoa bean. In her mouth, the Frog practically turned to liquid and allowed the blonde She-Wolf to discover pleasure.

Placed in her mouth, the silky-smooth texture that burst forth brought Norah nothing but pure bliss, and sadly to say, chocolate was one of few days following the post-monthly transformation cycles for her that her stomach could tend to tolerate.

While not the healthiest option, it was perhaps the one food that, while her taste buds and heightened senses were returning to normal, that didn't taste like shit in her mouth, and didn't send her stomach churning, twisting as coils in her guts in agony.

It was for this reason and this one alone that Norah was in love with chocolate more than she had ever been before, and this new She-Wolf, Tonks, would be too.

"Probably. Though what witch in her right mind _doesn't_ love chocolate, huh? Only a _nutter_ would hate on chocolate, that's _who_ , and if this Tonks hates chocolate, we _so_ cannot be friends, I don't care _what_ her husband tells me about this witch," she grumbled to no one in particular, reaching for her water bottle and unscrewing the cap, taking a long swig of water to wash down her Chocolate Frog with, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand and catching sight of her reflection in a mirror across the way. Her makeup pristine and neat, it hid the worst of just how like _shit_ she felt.

A little foundation and powder hid the darkening circles underneath her eyes, a light coating of red lipstick followed by a clear gloss hid the fact that just last night, her lips were cracked and bleeding, and her jeans, simple blue t-shirt, and black leather jacket and black booties were pristine and neat. Not a speck of dirt or dried blood on them.

First appearances, even as a werewolf, and in their case now, _especially_ as werewolves, were everything, as her kind were often hellbent and intent on deception.

Given how, most people when they found out the nature of her condition, could barely stand to look her in the eye, much less be within twenty feet of her in the same room, as though they were afraid that just by being in the same vicinity as Norah, that they would somewhat contract her lycanthropy. " _Blind_ bloody _fools_ ," she growled.

They were really so _stupid_ , these humans. These normal, imperfect humans. Didn't they understand that one could only become a fully-fledged werewolf if you were bitten by a wolf during the full moon? While, yes, it was true that if you happened to be mauled and attacked by a wolf who was not transformed, full moon or not notwithstanding, you would exhibit certain wolfish characteristics from there on out, such as an affinity for raw, uncooked fresh meats, like steak. Norah licked her lips.

Just the thought of steak was enough to set her blood aflame in her veins. A few hours ago, Norah's stomach had growled, hence why she'd gone in search of food and had stumbled across the vending machine on the lower level of St. Mungo's Hospital.

Now it was silent. She was past the growling point now that she had devoured the Chocolate Frog, and the Mad Beast within the confines of her chest and stomach had ceased its vicious growling and snarling, and practically purred in pleasure following the consumption of the small bit of chocolate, though, to Norah, it was not enough. Norah felt a sinking emptiness as she clutched at her stomach with one hand, the other feeling her left hand, her wand hand, drift towards her wand, resting in the back pocket of her jeans. She really hoped this young witch wouldn't make her use force.

But come hell or high water, the new She-Wolf was _going_ to listen to her words, one way or another, if she had to spell her eyes open and force her to pay attention. Though most didn't seem to be too particularly fond of her, and with good reason, as Norah preferred to keep most at arm's length, at a distance away from her.

The young blonde She-Wolf huffed in frustration and glanced down at her hands, now empty, given she'd waved away her now-drained water bottle with a sharp rap of her wand but two seconds ago before slipping her wand back into her back jeans pocket, and glanced down at her hands, fidgeting with them and toying with the plain silver wedding ring Wes had given her a few years back when they had first married.

"Wes, you _git_ ," Norah growled through gritted teeth, hoping that wherever her husband was, he'd managed to find their son and was able to keep him safe from him.

Once again, Norah's fear found her. It spoke to her in its cackling voice. It told her legs to go weak at the thought that their precious three-year-old boy might not even be alive anymore, that she would find her and her husband's maimed bodies in a ditch somewhere, that all of this, her efforts were about to be for bloody fucking _nothing_. It told her stomach to lurch and bile to coat her throat and tongue. Her mum had once told her that there was nothing to fear but fear itself, which was very wise.

But still, Norah Jameson could not find it within herself to silence its voice.

_What the bloody hell were you thinking, you moron?! Going up against…him._ _Fenrir Greyback_. She shuddered.

Just the man's _name_ by itself was enough to send the young blonde wolf's spine weak, and before Norah Jameson could ponder how exactly she, Remus Lupin, and this new She-Wolf whom she was about to take under her wing and teach her the ways of the 'Wolf' were going to get her son back, the door opened.

The young witch's man, Lupin, stepped out into the hallway, looking exhausted, though the moment he laid eyes on the young blonde witch, his posture tensed, and his ears perked up, his eyes widening slightly. "She—she's awake," he murmured in a voice that sounded rough and coarse, as though he'd not slept an ounce last night or today.

Norah nodded and hesitated, biting the inside wall of her cheek before daring to reach out a slightly shaking hand and place it gently on Lupin's shoulder. He looked exhausted and given the somewhat precarious nature the poor man practically swayed on the spot, if the young blonde werewolf hadn't already been holding tight to his shoulder to keep him steady, Lupin would have collapsed in the halls of St. Mungo's.

" _Go_. _Home_ ," Norah instructed in a hardened and clipped tone. "You look like shit, Mr. Lupin. I don't even need to look at you to know you haven't slept, probably not for the last few nights. You won't do your wife any good if you can barely stand on your own two feet. Go," she commanded again, her resolve firm, hard. "I'll sit with her a while; I have a feeling our conversation is going to take a little while. She knows I am here?" Norah asked, her inquisitive sky-blue eyes flickering towards the closed door.

Remus nodded mutely, barely stifling a yawn with the back of his left hand. Norah's eyes drifted down to the man's yellow gold ring, and she flinched, still seeing traces of the young woman's blood on the simple piece of jewelry. He followed her gaze, noticing where she was looking and flinched, promptly lowering his hand in shame. "Thank you," he murmured, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

But Norah brushed away the distraught husband's concerns with a wave of her hand. "It is of no trouble," she said in a lowly voice, hoping that her voice was quiet. "You have agreed to help me find my son. It's the least I can do as a form of payment."

Lupin's lips parted open slightly to speak. It looked as though the man had more he wanted to say on that matter in that regard, though he must have thought better of it as he promptly closed his mouth the second he felt Norah give his shoulder a squeeze.

" _Go_." When he still made no move to leave, Norah furrowed her brows in a frown. "Do I need to say it a _second_ time?" she growled, baring her still somewhat sharpened incisors and canines. "I really _hate_ saying it a second time, Mr. Lupin…"

Remus nodded, taking the hint to leave the young blonde She-Wolf in process with his wife to discuss the matter of his wife's first Turning, which was to occur next month, though the first nights of the cycles were always the worst, and no doubt she was going to be scared, confused, hurt. Even with the addition of Wolfsbane Potion…

Lupin turned his back on Norah, watching as the young Wolf entered into his wife's room and closed the door gently behind her, her footfalls practically silent.

He winced, though he knew that the blonde young witch was right. The two of them needed to become well-acquainted with one another on their own terms if Tonks were to adjust to her new involuntarily lifestyle as an adult female werewolf. His only thought before Disapparating once he'd reached the front visitor's lot of the St. Mungo's entrance, as he turned on his heel to make for their cottage in Wales was a simple but a poignant one in leaving Dora alone with Norah Jameson.

_I hope this is not a mistake…_

* * *

Tension met Norah Jameson as she entered into Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin's private room in St. Mungo's on the floor for Magical Creature Bites and Injuries.

Though her face was not mauled as Norah had been expecting and bracing herself for, there was a sickening reddish-purple bruise rapidly developing and swelling on the young witch's right cheek and small bleeding cut on the corner of her lip.

A St. Mungo's Healer, a matronly-looking witch with thick gray hair pulled up into a severe-looking bun and looking pristine and somewhat out of place in a set of lime green robes all the Healers here wore, met Norah's gaze and regarded the young blonde She-Wolf with an inquisitive and somewhat stony gaze, wanting to know just what the werewolf was doing, gawking at the newly-turned She-Wolf in the doorway.

The Healer was regarding her with questioning eyes, waiting for a remark on what Norah Jameson was doing in Mrs. Lupin's room and the purpose of her visit.

Thinking fast, Norah discreetly slid her wand out of the back pocket of her jeans and silently conjured a small bouquet of white lilies and made a visible show of brandishing them with a sweeping flourish from behind her back.

"I'm here to keep Mrs. Lupin company, Healer… Fenwick," she murmured, having to squint to read the Healer's nametag pinned to the front of her robes. "Mrs. Lupin and I are… _friends_."

_Not yet, you're not. See how she looks at you, Antagonism and venom flaring in those gray eyes of hers_ , Norah's conscience chimed up unhelpfully, which earned a visible scowl from the young blonde She-Wolf, though if Healer Fenwick or Tonks noticed it, neither witch made a remark, and Norah only stepped through the door the second she witnessed Mrs. Lupin give a curt nod of her head, signaling that it was okay.

Norah flinched as Tonks's sharp gaze looked at Norah, from her blue jeans to her black boots and black leather jacket and simple sky-blue t-shirt, her eyes speculative.

The young blonde She-Wolf could not quite stop the feeling of scorn welling within her chest, and she heard the gray-haired Healer offer a tired sign before turning back to Tonks, who clasped onto the scarring, mauled flesh of her neck with her hand.

"Rest, Mrs. Lupin. I will come to check on you in an hour. You'll need it now more than ever with your… _afflictions_." Even Norah's posture tensed at hearing the sniff of disdain and disgust in the Healer's voice as she recognized she was dealing with a werewolf, and Norah felt her temper begin to swell within the confines of her chest.

Norah flinched with hatred and squared her shoulders as the Healer's shoulder accidentally brushed against hers as she turned on the heels of her boots to vacate the room, and Norah was accidentally pushed forward and stumbled, and would have fallen had she not shot out an arm and latched onto the back of a nearby armchair by the bed.

The young blonde let out a sigh as the young witch in the hospital bed regarded her with a passive interest in those glistening gray orbs of hers. She didn't even have to look the girl in the eyes to know that Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin did not trust her.

Though, in fairness why _should_ she? The witch did not _know_ Norah. Not really. They weren't _friends_. _Yet_ , her mind offered, helpfully this time, at least.

"You don't mind if I sit?" Norah joked weakly, taking the chair she'd clutched onto the back of with white knuckles in an attempt to catch her fall before she fell on her ass and made a fool of herself in front of Remus Lupin's pregnant wife. "Beats the alternative." She gestured to the floor and took a second to pull up the chair and sit.

Tonks quirked a brow Norah's way as the young blonde dragged the chair closer to her bedside and straddled the thing backward, resting her arms on the chair's headrest and resting her chin on top of her arms, regarding Tonks with critical interest.

Tonks heaved a heavy sigh, somewhat resignedly, deciding she could ignore this Norah Jameson character no longer, and she swiveled her head reluctantly to face her.

In truth, she was exhausted and just wanted to sleep this off for several hours. The Sleeping Draught the Healer had given her was already working, but she had maybe a solid ten or fifteen good, coherent minutes before she'd be out completely.

"Wotcher," Tonks offered, somewhat in a low growl as she grunted it, seeming to burrow deeper underneath her heated blankets, though she took a moment to fluff the thick white pillows behind her in order to prop herself up and sit up straighter.

"My name is Norah Jameson, Mrs. Lupin. Your—your husband said that I'd find you here. I hope I haven't disturbed you. I was hoping that you and I could talk?"

Tonks nodded again, wordlessly this time, and offered no verbal follow-up.

"How…" Norah hesitated, biting down on her bottom lip in a sense of nervous anticipation. She would have to phrase what she said around this one carefully, she could tell. The young witch was already in a state of immense emotional and physical pain, and Norah did not want to add any more oil onto burning waters to further light that flame, though she'd known going into this, it would be a difficult conversation to have. "How are you feeling?" she asked, fidgeting with her simple silver wedding ring.

"Just _peachy_ ," Tonks snarled, causing Norah to flinch back in hurt and surprise. "I usually sleep _great_ after a werewolf _mauls_ me and takes a bite out of my neck. Even _better_ when it's my own _husband_ who know think it's _his_ fault and blames himself…"

Norah could practically see the antagonism flare in the younger witch's cold, haunting gray eyes as she bit her lower lip and looked away from Norah for a moment.

She was clearly beginning to feel the discomfort and tension and the young blonde knew Mrs. Lupin was not thinking clearly, and the amount of physical pain she must be in was excruciating so Norah could forgive the outburst. _This_ time, at least.

Norah sighed and brushed off her comments with a wave of her hand, trying to signal that she was not upset. "I am sorry to have come to see you at such a tiring hour, Mrs. Lupin. What you went through last night was traumatic and exhausting for you both. I'm sure you're tired and want to rest, but I think you'll want to hear what I have to say," she murmured, and she sensed Tonks's posture stiffen and her eyes narrow.

_I think I won't_ , Tonks thought bitterly, though she made no comment.

Norah sighed and continued. "I'm not _angry_ with you, Mrs. Lupin. I am not here to judge you or accuse or point blame or call you names. Trust me, I get it. I'm like you and your husband. A…a _werewolf_ ," she whispered, hissing her confession at the condition of her lycanthropy through gritted teeth like it was a dirty secret, though she knew that Tonks already knew this. "The fault was no one's, and certainly not your husband's. What happened to you was an _accident_. We _all_ know that. I'm here to _help_ you. What you are going through is a lifestyle adjustment, Tonks," she murmured, not even bothering to wait for permission from the other witch before addressing her by name. "You _cannot_ get through this on your own, and like it or not, though your husband is and should be your first support system there are…some things that require a woman's touch and expertise, shall we say. Your husband has already agreed to help me find my son. Greyback and his followers took him and my husband after…" She swallowed down her as her voice cracked and she blinked back a fresh onset of tears. "I can understand if you choose not to trust me yet, Tonks, but…at least _let_ me _help_ you. I—I'd like to consider you a friend in _time_ if you will…if you will allow me this."

Tonks glared at Norah with a glint of threat from the edge of a knife in those gray eyes of hers, a look that did not suit the bright young witch at all and was most unsettling. She could practically see the other witch's pale skin begin to prick with heat.

"I—I have already told my husband that we will help you find your son and husband, but…" she paused, unsure if whether or not to continue. " _Why_? Why did you seek out Remus, Mrs. Jameson? Just tell me that, at least, and maybe…" Tonks paused, turning away, a light pink blush speckling along her cheeks. No doubt she was feeling ashamed for the cold and curt response she had given to her new acquaintance just now. "And then maybe I'll…understand better. I—I'd like for us to be friends too, soon, b—but I don't think I'm feeling well enough to…to talk about what happened. Not yet. Maybe if you could come back to our cottage in another few days when I'm discharged from here, you and I could…we could talk then, when I'm hopefully feeling better?" Tonks asked, a pleading, biting tone to her otherwise quiet, sweet voice.

Norah, who had already been able to sense that this was perhaps ill judgment on her part, that she should not have come so soon after the young witch's mauling, rose from her chair to leave, though she made a mental note to place the Chocolate Frog she'd brought in for Mrs. Lupin on the witch's bedside table as a show of good faith.

She hesitated, her hand on the doorway as she turned to leave, biting on the bottom of her lip, and then running her tongue along the wall of her teeth before she turned back to regard the young witch. Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin was…not quite what she had expected. Given her husband was around thirty-six or so, she'd expected someone closer to her own age, but she was surprised to see that this was not the case.

The young witch resting in the hospital bed, this new She-Wolf, was maybe mid to late twenties if Norah had to hazard a guess. Her face was pale, paler than usual, she guessed, and the vicious, grotesque looking slash markings on her neck would scar in time, though she imagined they caused the younger woman no small amount of pain.

Her hair was shoulder-length, though she knew from Mr. Lupin that his wife was a Metamorphmagus, something told Norah that how she was seeing Tonks now, was her natural form. Her hair was a rich dark chocolate brown, shoulder-length and wavy, cascading to just past her shoulders in loose, soft layers that framed her face.

Though throughout her wavy dark hair were streaks scattered throughout of dark pink, Tonks's attempt at maintaining a semblance of her previous life before… _this_.

Norah hesitated as she struggled to form an apt response to why it was that Norah had sought Remus Lupin out in a way that his wife would accept, only hoping that Tonks could not see the incredible heat creeping its way onto her pale cheeks.

"Because…your husband is the _only_ one who I can trust to help me find my son," Norah admitted softly, and she dared to lift her chin and glance back over her shoulder, to find the young brunette witch's lips agape slightly, as if she had not considered her words as a possibility or as the truth. "The others in my camp do not trust me after…I dared to speak out against what Greyback does. Kidnapping _kids_ ," she growled, baring her incisors, not caring that Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin flinched at it.

Norah sighed and dared to have her inquisitive blue eyes meet Tonks' steely grays. "Mrs. Lupin, I know this might not want you to hear right now, but you need it. Whatever kind of life you had with your husband before…last night, _forget_ it," she growled, fully aware of the note of bitterness and self-loathing at what she was creeping into her German accent, and she balled her hands into fists as they shook at her sides. "From this moment on, your life, like it or not, is _changed_. And not in a good way, either. I _promise_ that, as a friend to you, I will do what I can to help you through it, but it's _not_ going to be easy for you. People once they find out what we are, what we suffer from, can barely look us in the eye, much less attempt to be in the same _room_."

The young blonde She-Wolf swallowed down hard as visions of her and her husband, Wes, getting accosted by wizards in Diagon Alley when the two of them had come out of the Apothecary in an attempt to purchase Wolfsbane for themselves, flitted through the front of her mind and she gritted her teeth, clenching her molars so hard that she heard a sickening pop! She hoped that this would not be the case with these two.

Norah emanated a tense exhale through her nose and continued. "I don't think you quite understand what's going to happen to you. Your life, like I just said, is _changed_. But it doesn't have to be so bad, but you've got to let me in, Mrs. Lupin. I can help you, so can your husband. You don't have to go through this all alone, but _only_ if you let us _help_ you. I don't care if you like me or not, but it would certainly make things _easier_ , wouldn't it?" Norah protested, hating hearing the dip in her voice.

Tonks's face paled, and the younger witch nodded, brushing back a curl of her hair away from her shoulder. "I…thank you for your kind words and consideration and concern for my health, ah, Norah, but I'm sure that I will be just fine. My—my husband is with me, but I…I'm sorry, Mrs. Jameson," she murmured, a blush speckling along her cheeks. "I—I am…not quite myself yet. I—I shouldn't have snapped at you, it's not like me at all to yell like this. Forgive me?" she asked, biting down on her lip.

Norah hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second, her gaze drawn towards the She-Wolf's bared shoulder, gleamed a red-wine patch, a sickening bruise, against ivory skin cut from the finest of pearls. Her pupils dilated and for a moment, Norah froze.

The marking was made by that Wolf, the Mad Beast within that was her husband. He'd forgotten to take his Wolfsbane Potion and had lost his mind. He had changed, lost control, though it was not Remus's fault. The simple fact, however, did nothing to quell the revulsion that caused poor Norah's stomach to coil and twist sickeningly. Of course, he couldn't be sure how Remus Lupin treated his wife domestically behind closed doors on days where he wasn't transformed, but the ugly bruise, both of them, near her shoulder, on her collarbone, and under her eye, were wretched, accursed sights to behold, and they would linger for the next several days.

Tonks noticed where Norah's sky-blue eyes were drawn to and she flushed, covering up her shoulder with the sleeve of her white St. Mungo's hospital robe.

Norah gingerly opened the door and took a half-step over the threshold to step out into the hallway to leave Mrs. Lupin in peace, though something about the desperate, pleading note in Tonks's tone gave her pause, and she shifted at the waist.

"I forgive you," she said at last, though she recognized her voice sounded pained. Norah sighed and raked her hands through her short blonde hair before she lifted her chin and dared to meet Mrs. Lupin's gaze, offering the pretty young witch what she hoped was a white and reassuring smile meant to offer comfort and solace.

"I'll come by your cottage in a couple of days, see how you're doing. Oh, and more thing. _Please_ ," Norah added, smiling at Tonks. "For my sake, call me Norah…" she murmured, turning on the heel of her boot and turning to leave, though she could have sworn the newly turned brunette young She-Wolf looked at her as Norah left.

_What a day_ , Norah thought to herself exasperatedly as she walked down the hallway of St. Mungo's, unbeknownst to her, that Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, resting in the bed of her hospital room as she watched the young blonde She-Wolf depart, had the exact same thought.

_What a day…_


	9. Heartless

** CHAPTER NINE  **

The day was warm, and Greyback’s pallid, listless eyes stared at the leaves of the trees in the Wolves Wood, old, gnarled twisted bark, though there was a small part of him that could not deny the exotic and fiery appeal of these woods. Like a midnight candle burning bright amongst the shadows, he thought, though the muffled noise that his latest captive, the three-year-old pup of the Jameson’s brought his mind back out of his wanderings, and he eyed the boy. This material of _strangeness_ , not like its parents. A human born to Wolves. The skies above his head were dull, grievous, and showed no hint of the sunlight. Greyback had taken this boy, this child, for a _purpose_. To show the rest of the clan what happened when you defied his orders and their way of life, though he wanted the mother present for his little act of mercy. He’d put the child out of his misery, for if you could not spend your life free of restraints, free of the cage, why live?

The killing was his least favorite part. It was a necessary chore for him rather than a pleasure. He hated it when others of his clan died so soon, but Fenrir had to punish them.

“We spill blood to those who _need_ it,” he murmured lowly under his breath as he watched the blond-haired, blue-eyed three-year-old boy playing with a toy under the tree.

And if he was being honest with himself, most of the wizarding world sorely needed it. They were tainted, not _like_ him. Not even the ever-present darkness of the Wolves Wood, a section sequestered off by Fenrir and the others of the Forbidden Forest in secret could conceal the way Fenrir Greyback’s emotionless yellow eyes widened with desire for the little boy that he had dead to rights and within his sights, and he could strike.

Oh, yes, he could, but what was the fun in that if both parents were not here to witness the boy’s salvation? His Turning would be an achievement for the clan, and he would become the youngest Wolf within their ranks. The boy’s parents, Wes, and Norah Jameson were a fine couple, and the husband had true potential to be an Alpha of his own clan. If their undesirable behavior could be corrected and the mischievous streak within the wife stamped out. _One day, the boy’s going to make a fine Wolf. But first…find the female_ , he thought, grinding his teeth, and locking his molars so hard he heard a sickening _pop_!

Wes, the boy’s father, had uttered the words Greyback himself had just spoken, and during his interrogation as to the whereabouts of his wife, the She-Wolf, that blonde little minx, the words had tumbled unchecked from the man’s mouth. Wes rarely ever said anything so violent and even rarer still in a confident and unwavering tone of his voice.

Greyback’s vicious mind ignored it that Wes suggested it to help their people, their own kin. All he heard was the words ‘spill blood’ and those two words spoken from the very man’s lips who he considered like a blood brother to him, were enough to make his predatory heartbeat that much faster and the blood surging within his veins to ignite.

The imagery of himself and his clan spilling blood for the greater good of werewolves everywhere was all levels of delightful for Fenrir Greyback and as strong as any Fire Whiskey or dosage of Felix Felicis had ever done to intoxicate the burly and savage werewolf. Greyback blinked and forced his attention to return to his captive.

 _Sweet, precious little Jax_. Greyback’s lips curled upward into a twisted sneer, revealing his gums and slightly yellowed teeth and unnaturally sharp, pointed canines.

The little three-year-old boy moved like his knees were just hinges, wobbling everywhere before falling on his padded bottom. Then the kid clapped like it was all part of the plan and rolled to his stomach to get up again. The boy was a spitting image of both his parents, with most of his mother’s genes and cute as hell, though right now, Jackson ‘Jax’ Jameson was anything _but_ cute as the kid opened his mouth and screamed.

The scream told of pain within, of confusion. The boy craved the touch of his mum, of soft skin. Needed her scent, the movement of her body, and the feeling of his little feet leaving the ground for the safety of Norah Jameson’s arms. But the kid wouldn’t get it.

The boy was staying with him for now, as his prisoner. That’s what happened to those who defied him. Why? Greyback himself did not exactly know the reason as to his ‘why.’ If he had enough power over another Wolf, male or female, it put Fenrir in control. _Having control makes you strong, and nobody likes a weak Alpha_ , Greyback mused. It gave him satisfaction, to have this much control over another Wolf’s life. Almost like it was the thing that drove him. The thing that he would do anything for, really.

When anybody else in his clan, especially Norah Jameson, that minx, that Wolf, was flying high, Fenrir would drag her down. Drag them all down with them if necessary.

He would eat at her problems just long enough to break her, but still, be the one to soothe the witch. Norah Jameson had chosen this life by not realizing what he has done to her. She was his little plaything, and her son’s wretched life was determined by what happens to the boy over the next week. He would find the She-Wolf. She would return to their camp of her own volition, or both the three-year-old boy and her mate would die. It was a simple choice, really. One that Greyback _sincerely_ hoped she’d do right by.

Greyback involuntarily stiffened as he felt a figure nudge beside him. Wes. The distraught father watched his screaming three-year-old son under the elm tree for a moment before darting forward and scooping up the blond-haired boy in his strong arms.

“Stop this,” Wes growled animalistically, baring his own fangs. “There is no need for this. Let my son free. Do whatever the hell you’re going to do to me but spare my son. Let him _go_. He’s just a _boy_ , Greyback,” Wes snarled, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

“There is _every_ need,” Fenrir growled in response, bearing his canines. “Your precious little mate dared to speak out against me. Did you really think I did not know the vicious lies that she spread? That she’d be able to just get away with this?” he hissed, narrowing his yellowed eyes. “I think not, boy. I _know_ she fled from the camps, Wes.”

Here, he leaned in and shifted at the waist, so he was now facing in front of the unnerved younger werewolf, whose grip tightened instinctively around his little boy.

The tip of his nose was practically touching Wes’s, and he let out a low warning growl. “And don’t even _think_ of lying to me, boy. I detect when you _lie_ ,” he snarled.

Wes flinched and attempted to shirk away from the older and taller wolf. His Alpha. He berated himself for not seeing what would happen sooner. Everyone in the camps knew of the disappearance of Greyback’s rumored illegitimate bastard, a little wolf-cub sired by an unknown She-Wolf, though Wes and Norah had their suspicions of the identity of the boy’s mother, thinking the mother of Greyback’s little wolf-cub was Rena, a female werewolf almost just as savage as Greyback and shared his viewpoints.

That to Turn other wizards and witches when they were just little children and too young to comprehend what was happening to them, to turn them against wizardkind at an early age, was the way, the only way to get the rest of the community to understand. Wes bit down the inside wall of his cheek, wishing he could commiserate, but he was too nervous to allow even a single wretched tear to escape his lids, and he thought he would _die_ before he would ever hear himself whimper in front of Fenrir Greyback.

Every modicum of what little was left of his energy in his otherwise exhausted body went into ruminating on the fate of his wife, what would become of Jax if Greyback decided to kill him here and now where he stood. Wes, earlier, left to rot in the cage that Greyback had put him in and clad his wrists to chains bolted to the wall, had made himself physically ill imaging the possible tortures his wife was undergoing, not knowing his whereabouts, or what fate had befallen their son, and all of this for a bastard Jax’s age.

What the boy, Collin was rumored to be. The natural son of Greyback himself. No one had known exactly what happened to the little wolf-cub following his Turning, that his father had done himself, only that he had disappeared, his remains turned up in the river on the edge of the forest’s borders. Rumor had it the kid had been snatched up by un-turned wizards and spirited away by them in broad daylight when no adult Wolf had been watching the boy. There were whispers among the clan of foul play, of murder…

Or so that was what their Alpha had thought. And anything Greyback suspected, so too did the rest of their clan, out of a sense of unbridled fear of what Alpha would do in retaliation against anyone who had dared to speak out against his claims. Wolves like _her_.

As visions of Norah’s sweet face flitted in front of his mind, refusing to part from his troubled thoughts, Wes squeezed his eyes tightly shut, not wanting his boy to contract his father’s panic, though Jax was only three and way too young to fully understand.

Of course, no one within their tribe knew exactly what had happened to Collin, but Norah and Wes had heard gossip amongst some of the other Wolves that he had initially dismissed as fearmongering and insisted that his wife do the same thing: that no matter what grisly fate that boy had met, Greyback would find a way to take his grief out on the other Wolves, and it was no secret that Norah openly defied his more brutal practices, such as performing the Turning, the act of biting a non-werewolf being at the full moon, effectively rendering the other person likes them, a fully-fledged werewolf, when the other person in question was just a defenseless, innocent child, and _hated_ him.

And in seeking vengeance for his lost son, bastard though he was, Greyback had made it a point to separate Norah Jameson from hers, and Wes hoped that wherever Norah was, that she was safe, and had succeeded in finding the only Wolf who’d help.

Wes closed his eyes and silently shot a prayer to Merlin above or whoever would listen to a werewolf’s prayer these days that his wife had managed to find the other Wolf.

Remus Lupin. Perhaps one of the few werewolves in all of Great Britain who had openly defied life as a werewolf and had attempted thus far to live amongst other humans.

 _Let her be safe_ , Wes, thought opening his eyes when he felt a second figure nudge and recognized another Wolf, a nameless face, had come to take Jax from him. _Let her find the only man who can help us. Let her find Lupin, no matter what happens to me_.

No doubt Greyback was going to attempt another round of questioning in a moment. Reluctantly, through gritted teeth and much to Jax’s screaming displeasure, he relinquished control of his boy and allowed his son to be carted off, hopefully to safety.

He knew, at the very least, that Fenrir would not hurt Jax while Norah was missing.

Greyback was a brutal man who prided himself on his thoroughness, of this Fenrir knew. Though as he was left alone to bask in the thick uncomfortable tension, seeing the perceived venom in Wes’s yellow eyes, he realized he did not know the true meaning of thoroughness until now. After Collin’s disappearance, Greyback had been rendered completely immobile, physically.

The child’s mother, a She-Wolf named Rena, and easily one of the prettiest women in his encampment had taken a particularly bad shock and had collapsed when she had heard the news. Rena had yet to rise from her bed, even with Fenrir visiting Rena in her own tent at least every other day without fail for an hour.

Despite his best efforts to console his unofficial mate, Greyback felt that what little conscience he had left was now wracked with guilt. Sleep evaded him since his bastard son’s disappearance and many futile, begging pleas to Merlin above ended in bitter tears. And now, he was faced with a confrontation that Greyback could no longer ignore. Collin’s death was Merlin’s judgment on him for his relationship with Rena. Their kind was not meant to breed, and they had done it anyways, and now… now _this_ happened.

Fenrir stifled a low growl as he pinched at his temples with his thumb and forefinger, feeling the beginnings of a stifling headache coming. He was tired and irritable, but he could not stop. Wes Jameson was going to tell him what he knew, or Merlin helps him…

“Wes,” he began in a voice that suggested how curt and annoyed he was coming, which failed to elicit a response from the younger male werewolf. He did not stir at all.

Wes did not move or speak, though his wide, frightened yellow eyes spoke untold volumes, a truly pitiful sight which pleased Greyback, bringing a rueful smile to his lips.

“You present a rather troublesome and curious case for me, _dog_ , and now I find myself at a loss, Jameson,” he growled lowly. “You _do_ know why I’ve brought you and your little cub here, don’t you, or shall I spell it out for you?” he asked, gesturing with a curt wave of his burly arm towards the old abandoned Muggle business on the outskirts of Glasgow.

Wes straightened his posture and ensured his face remained impassive, though a muscle in his jaw twitched as he swallowed down hard past a growing lump in his throat.

“I am here on a _false_ accusation. You think my wife and I are behind that boy’s disappearance and the killing of your only bastard son, Alpha,” he spat venomously.

Poor Wes Jameson had virtually no time to react as the leader of their clan closed off the gap of space between the two of them, twisting his thick, sausage-like fingers which more resembled that of claws into his matted tuft of dirty blond hair and tugged.

Hard, which caused Wes to let out a yelp that sounded like that of a wounded dog in pain as Greyback dragged him downward, forcing Wes to crane his neck upward to meet his cold and listless gaze. “Watch your tongue, _beast_ ,” he snarled through clenched teeth and rooted jaw. “That _boy_ was the natural son of Rena Lestrange, and that is _only_ how you will refer to him, Jameson? Do I need to say it a _second_ time? Don’t make me.”

Wes’s gaze hardened, and his yellow eyes met Greyback’s with a critical interest as his slightly pointed ears perked up and gave a twitch and his posture stiffened involuntarily. “That boy’s death was a tragedy that neither I nor my wife has any knowledge of Greyback, so don’t you try to pin this on _us_! More of your _lies_ , Alpha!”

Fenrir felt his eyes narrow and his curled fist relinquished its grip slightly on the material of Wes’s jacket. “Don’t think for a _second_ this changes my decision, Jameson. Did you really think that I did not _know_ that you take me for a blind and bloody _fool_? I _saw_ your pretty little wife leave out of the back of your cottage within our camps, boy.”

For perhaps since the first time since looking upon his leader’s face, a flash of panic alighted across the younger male werewolf’s face, rendering his pale features pallid.

A small victory, Greyback thought, but a victory, nonetheless. Well. He would take it. “I have every reason to believe your mate, that _bitch_ , was the one who killed that cub.”

If it was possible, Wes Jameson’s face paled even further in his shock and outrage.

“Alpha, no,” he begged, and hearing the dip and crack in Jameson’s faltering voice as his resolve left him was like music to Greyback’s ears, the hearing of it totally delish. “Norah had nothing to do with your son—that _boy_ ’s disappearance. My wife is _innocent_!”

Fenrir Greyback let out a growl and dipped his hand into the pocket of his trench coat, pointing the tip of his wand at the column of Jameson’s throat, seeing how the man’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as the man swallowed nervously. “Norah running away from our own tribe is proof enough of that _bitch’s_ guilt, and I’d see her torn apart limb from limb for this, but not before I repay the favor, Wes, and take your own son…”

Though Wes said nothing, Greyback could tell the younger Wolf was trying and failing to keep a neutral expression, and Fenrir at long last, after over a week of questioning the father and distraught husband, finally felt like he was getting somewhere.

“You _will_ tell me where your whore of a wife is, Jameson, where she ran off to, that little _wolf_ ,” Greyback began slowly and dangerously, and there was a hint of steel in the Alpha’s face that told Wes not to take his leader’s words lightly, as he dug the tip of his wand deeper into his throat, almost hard enough to pierce the sensitive flesh without even the need so as to much utter a single jinx. “Or I promise you, you _will_ regret this.”

Wes did not immediately respond to Greyback’s goading in an effort to elicit a forced confession from him, though the weighted gravity of the severity of his predicament hit him square in the chest like a Knockback Jinx. He was going to die here.

Weeks spent down in that filthy hole in the basement of Greyback’s safe house, in the middle of nowhere, slowly being broken, death was all that Wes could hope for.

A release, it was. Or so he _thought_ , and as Wes looked into the listless eyes of his leader, seeing nothing within those soulless yellowed eyes but pits of burning wrath, he realized that he dreaded Death. To leave this world and leave Norah and Jax behind seemed to be an inevitable fate that he could not escape, closing in on him as fast as ever. And he did not want to acknowledge the fact that Wes at the moment felt utterly helpless as he struggled against the firm, hairy hands of Greyback currently gripping onto his shoulder, only to receive a punch in the stomach.

As he doubled over and coughed, wheezing, and gasping for breath, Wes felt like his mind was now clouded with fear, and his body went limp. Pure terror surged through his veins, icy daggers straight to his heart.

The fear he had felt when he and Norah had discovered Jax was missing was nothing compared to how he felt now, with the literal tip of Death pointed squarely at his face.

Fear curled up and clung to Wes’s ribcage, settling uncomfortably in his chest. He did not doubt the feeling was there to stay, reminding him of his existence every time Wes opened his mouth to plead with Alpha to show even a semblance of mercy on him.

“You _will_ tell me where your wife is. _Now_.” The command left Greyback’s lips as a low growl.

Wes felt his mouth move of its own accord silently before managing in a hoarse cry, “I—I don’t bloody know where my wife went! I—I swear to you!” he gasped raggedly.

Greyback’s dark brows furrowed together in suspicious contemplation. “She told you nothing?” he snarled, baring razor-sharp canines at Wes as he towered over him.

“I don’t remember.”

Greyback felt the edges of his lips curl upwards into a twisted sneer as he revealed yellowing gums. This was a typical response of Wolves, especially inferior werewolves, the ones who were afraid of him. Skilled in almost a woeful ignorance, Norah had taught Wes well to resist against Greyback’s more persuasive methods. Still, he didn’t bother to tamper down the vicious smile that crept along with his features as he pointed his wand at him.

“That’s all right, Wes. I believe you,” Fenrir Greyback growled in an animalistic, wolfish snarl, sounding every bit the beast that he knew himself to be as he made a show of steadying his hand that had curled tightly into a fist around his wand. “I shall help you to remember…


	10. Not Your Fault

**CHAPTER TEN**

The darkened silhouette of the woods behind his and Dora's simple cottage exuded an eerie, intimidating aura as Remus slowly approached the edge of the woods where it happened. He did not want to go back to where his wife's accident happened, he didn't.

But more than his fear, he wanted to take away the power of the painful memory for the hurt that he knew would haunt him and plague his every waking thought and his nightmares unless he _did_ something about it, to prove to himself that he could choose to move on, as Dora had suggested, and together, both of them would be stronger for this.

Lily had once told Remus during their seventh year at Hogwarts that the most beautiful of memories were the worst, cutting his insides as if they were shards of glass.

These woods behind his home where he had grown up had once been his refuge, his safe haven where he had disappeared three nights a month for his transformations under supervision from his father Lyall Lupin when he'd been a boy and couldn't handle his transformation, and he recollected scratching and biting himself, just to numb the pain.

Just standing at the edge of the woods like he was doing now filled him with immense pain and a sadness Lupin knew that he would never fully shake from his senses.

And how could he be expected to, given everything that had happened to Dora?

She had been discharged from St. Mungo's a week ago now and was currently soundly sleeping. Her recovery was going surprisingly well, all things considered. Nothing that Calming and Sleeping Draughts couldn't handle, and Lupin dutifully applied the disgusting smelling ointment to Tonks's scars on the column of her throat to minimize the pain for her, so he hoped, and hopefully in time reduce the amount of scarred tissue.

He had snuck out here, leaving her undisturbed to sleep in peace, needing air. Memories, unbeknownst to his wife, were the soul torturer of his heart and mind. Remus, try as hard as he might, could not escape them, nor hide from them. His thoughts and recollections, what little the Mad Beast could recall of Dora's Turning, was the worst kind of monster. Lupin ground his teeth and licked his lips to moisten them, though it brought no benefit. Only a dryness to his throat and constant swallowing of nothing.

Lupin was scared of what his past held if he was being completely honest with himself. All of the memories of the worst days of his lycanthropy that never seemed to escape him, even on a good day. They were like hot needles, pricking, searing his skin.

He could not yell or fight back, as much as he wanted to. He just had to take it and endure the pain as the picture of sweet Dora's face just before she was viciously mauled and attacked by him flashed through the tortured forefront of his mind and he gagged.

What had he _done_?! This…this was all _his_ fault. All his fault, no matter what Tonks and the other She-Wolf, Norah Jameson, told him. Remus _knew_ what he was. A Beast.

Lupin had experienced pain before. But nothing would ever quite amount to this. Remus could neither hide nor run from the relived memory of Tonks's maiming. His memories of the attack, Dora's Turning, were indeed his worst enemy and the thing that was most likely apt to destroy him if he let it, and Remus was finding it immensely difficult in resisting not letting his memories, his heartache currently get the better of him.

Her _face_. How _terrified_ Tonks had looked of the Wolf when the Beast had tracked her scent, drawn to the truly intoxicating and sweet scent of her blood, and the sweat on her brow that had smelled to him like mo. Lupin squeezed his eyes tightly shut, growling.

He simply could not get these ghastly images out of his mind in this moment, no matter how hard he tried, but then again, he had come to the site of Dora's accident solely for this purpose and this alone. To learn how to control his grief and emotions.

That was why he had come here, after all, though he could not help wondering why Merlin had forsaken him so if this was to be his plight in life going forward. Even with a wife whom he loved dearly, more than his own wretched miserable existence, and coupled with the fact that the two of them were to become parents to a baby in nine months, a fact that still terrified Remus, though he tried to ignore the twisting coil in his gut at that prospect, the worn man's face as he stood at the site where it happened held a grief-stricken expression, dried tear tracts on his pale cheeks.

The silence in these woods was more than deafening, and it caused a feeble ringing to feel his fatigued eardrums and overtook his wolfish hearing until it was the only thing that Remus could focus on at all.

Lupin froze as the light autumnal breeze ruffled his slightly wavy light brown hair gently, pushing his bangs back away from his forehead as he heard the trees whispering. He was jumpier over the last two and a half days following Dora's Turning into a werewolf, and rightfully so. His lips held a thin line that seemed to deepen by the second.

The thought that tortured him right now as he stood, and he swore, he was sure, yes, he was certain of this as he gingerly knelt into a crouch on the forest floor, that he could still see faint traces of Dora's blood, now dried, cracked crimson on the earth's soil, and on a few scattered fallen leaves, was _why_? Why had Tonks gone in search of him? By doing so, she had put her own life and the life of their unborn baby at risk, in danger, and now…she was…like _him_.

A She-Wolf, a fully-fledged Wolf. Because of _him_. It felt as though his already damaged heart were now destroyed, and Lupin swallowed back the bitter acidic stomach bile as the disgusting stuff slowly crept its way from the lining of his stomach and up into his throat, until he thought he might be sick.

The distraught husband stood in the forest clearing for what felt to him like hours, but the sun above the sky, hidden behind the clouds though it was, looked not to have risen any further, and his nostrils flared as thick thunder clouds rolled, black and purple, looming in the distance. Lupin let out a haggard breath and felt his knees give out.

He shot out an arm to catch the worst of his fall, feeling his knees dig into the grit of the earth, his throbbing hands falling into his calloused hands. His breaths hitched, dying in his throat, a relatively poor attempt to calm himself down. This was _his_ fault.

Remus was sure he had not received a full night's rest in days, not since…before. Deep purple bags were prominent underneath both his eyes, and Remus flinched as he heard a heavy sigh escape his tired form. He had fallen asleep last night in her arms, not wanting to even so much as twitch to avoid accidentally grazing against one of Dora's injuries, specifically her neck, and he had enjoyed basking in the warmth his wife gave.

Though now that he was out here, and she was inside, he missed the heat Tonks provided him. Were she feeling better, perhaps he might have initiated a slow bout of lovemaking to his wife, though he _insisted_ on waiting until Tonks was well enough.

His mind became rushed by the horrible memory of seeing his wife's face following his changing back to normal when the Mad Beast within him would lay dormant for another month, at seeing her crimson lifeforce sticky near her throat as it left her body.

He grimaced, tearing his eyes away from the site of her attack, suddenly unable to remember why he had come out here. His shaking hands found their way to the top of his head and he seized on tufts of his light brown hair and tugged on them so hard that he felt the roots scream in protest. Lupin breathed scattered breaths while his gaze actively averted staring at the blood-soaked forest floor beneath him, now a permanent reminder of what he really was, despite his best attempts to conceal the truth from those around him. The poor alarmed husband blinked rapidly, desperately trying to quell that memory.

Remus slid his hands down his face, clutching at his shirt, breathing in…out…in… nice and slow, like Dora and Molly had told him to do whenever he felt one of his panic attacks coming on, but his exasperated lungs simply couldn't get air.

Tonks's attack haunted him daily and nightly, but Merlin's Beard, what he had _done_ to his poor sweet wife! The flashing images as the days passed had only gotten _worse_.

"Rem?" A soft voice behind him spoke up, and Remus flinched and stood, straightening his posture. He did not even have to look to know that the voice belonged to that of his wife, that she must have woken up and noticed him missing and came looking out here for him.

Lupin felt himself stiffen, not bothering to look over his shoulder, not even when he heard the crunch of Tonks's footfalls as she stepped on fallen leaves and twigs, nor when she set a gentle hand upon his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. His gaze remained fixated on the site of her attack, unable to tear his eyes away.

"Remus." She called his name again, which caused Lupin to summon every shred, every bit of the man he knew himself to be, the monster that he was, and everything in between. He waited for her. No, scratch that, he ached for Tonks to call his name again.

And yet, he could not manage to answer her. And then, there she was, in front of him, an accusatory look on her face and her lips pursed into a thin line, biting her bottom lip. "You should be resting, Remus. You've not slept much at all these last few nights."

Lupin could not answer his wife. Though finally, he found his voice, and when he did speak to Tonks, his only words were, "I—I should," he grumbled lowly under his breath. "But…" At last, he swiveled his head towards her and looked at Dora, and even now, after almost a full year of marriage, he was still surprised at how much her simplistic beauty could render him breathless, how it always felt like when he looked at her, he felt lightless, his chest constricting, and his throat hollowed as his gaze landed on her hair.

A rich plum color this morning, and she had taken to wearing it loose and wavy, letting her layers cascade gently down to just past her collarbones to hide her scarring.

"Why are you out here? It's cold, you could get sick," Lupin heard himself protest and furrowed his brows. He made to rest a hand on her shoulder to give it a light squeeze, though she turned away at the last possible minute and ducked her head, out of shame.

"I—I could not sleep. I wanted to see you," Tonks murmured hoarsely. Remus could swear he almost heard her smile. "I needed to…to make sure you were all right."

"I—I'm fine," he answered, flinching as he recognized his voice sounded clipped and hard and came out perhaps harsher than he meant to, for he lifted his gaze to meet Dora's eyes searching his for the unspoken truth, and immediately, wished she wouldn't.

He did not want her to see him like this. "I—I'm sorry that you couldn't sleep, love. _You_ are the one who needs rest, Dora, not me. Don't worry about me, I will be fine. You're still healing, you don't need to be out here exacerbating yourself like this, darling. I can give you a Sleeping Draught if you need one. Come on, we should go."

Tonks frowned as she heard the soft shuffling of movement and before her husband could turn on the heel of his shoe to leave her here in these dark woods in tranquility, her arm shot out and she grabbed onto Lupin's shoulder in a firm vice grip, preventing him from taking another step forward.

" _Don't_ ," she pleaded, sticking out her lip in a pout. She lifted her chin and met Remus's wide, unblinking eyes with her own. She glanced down at her left hand, where her gaze lingered on her wedding band and had wrapped into a firm vice-grip about his arm, though she made no move to relinquish it.

"Do not _leave_ me out here _alone_ in these woods by myself, Rem. Please… _don't_." She hardened the edges of her voice just slightly, and there was a hint of steel in Dora's voice that told Remus he must listen to his wife, and listen well, or he'd suffer for it.

Lupin blinked, still feeling confused by the sudden shift in his wife's countenance. Just a second ago, she had seemed concerned for his physical and mental well-being and now, she was waving her wand until a pile of soft, goose feather down blankets appeared and she spread them out and sat down cross-legged on top of one, patting the spot next to her, silently communicating with him to join her here in the forest behind their house.

He did as she asked without saying a word, feeling like his heart was pounding so damned loudly against the confines of his chest, that damn stubborn corded muscle of mass and veins that pumped blood within, so loud, he was sure that Tonks could hear it.

Though if Dora did or not, she gave no indication to Remus that she had heard. In truth, he was wondering why she was sitting out here on top of a blanket, in the cold.

She could _easily_ get sick, she was still healing, though was making remarkable progress, it still did not ease his concerns for his wife or that of their unborn child.

It seemed to take Tonks an eternity to find her voice, and when his wife did finally raise her head and look Remus square in the eye, her tone was softer, much more subdued, and uncertain than before. Tonks breathed in a deep breath and made to say her piece, and Lupin thought the wisest course of action at this point in time was to listen. She emanated a tense exhale through her nose and glanced down at her hands, which were resting idly in her lap, though Tonks had begun to fidget with them, nervously playing with her pinkish-tipped fingers to keep them warm from the breeze.

"You won't admit it to me, but I _know_ you still blame yourself for my accident," she began uncertainly, cringing as she spoke the words, and she heard Lupin give off an audible gasp of surprise and flinched, turning away, though Tonks decided she was not having it as she ground her teeth in annoyance and reached out a hand and firmly cupped the man's chin in her hand, tilting his head slightly upward and forcing Remus to meet her gaze. "I wish that you could know that it was _not_ your fault, Rem. You aren't to blame, and I would never ever find you at fault for this," she murmured, brushing back a lock of her hair to reveal the scars on her neck.

Remus winced, light brown eyes shimmering with unshed moisture, though he did not blink, and he did not dare avert his gaze from his wife. But still, Lupin could not help asking, and did not bother to quell the question as it tumbled unchecked from his lips. "And now?"

The second his statement left his lips, Lupin cursed himself and could no longer contain his barely racing heart or his nearly frantic breaths. Whatever it was that Tonks wanted of him, why she had followed him here to the forest behind their cottage, he had not anticipated they would have a conversation of this caliber.

Tonks, meanwhile, pondered over Remus's question, suddenly feeling uneasy. She turned her head away and instead focused her attention on the weirwood tree during her process of thinking and allowed her mind to ruminate. She huffed in frustration and rested her cheek in her fist. People, especially those amongst the rest of the Order of the Phoenix and at the Ministry, had just openly assumed that her opinion of her husband and the details surrounding her accident were his fault and that though Tonks would not dare say it out loud, that she blamed him.

But they could not have been further from the truth. Though she knew this now not to be the case, however, now that Lupin himself was asking her the same question, Tonks could not help but feel a bit perturbed. Though it spoke volumes of the man's character that he was asking her, as his wife, for the unvarnished truth, not caring how blunt she would be in answering. Tonks was well aware that there were few people in all of Great Britain who could directly ask such a question to her, though the man did not seem afraid.

Perhaps it was because of this and given the nature that she was his wife, which caused Tonks to decide to answer her sweet husband honestly. More important than that, however, Tonks _wanted_ to answer Remus honestly.

Tonks paused for a moment to ponder her best choice of words, finally turning her head back around to regard Lupin, who, she could tell, was growing impatient by her lack of response, though not one to forget proper edict, was not about to comment on it, for which Tonks felt immensely grateful for.

"You have saved my life now at _least_ a total of four times, Rem," she stated quietly, having to tick them all off on her fingers. In truth, it was probably more than four by now, considering the number of times that her Aunt Bellatrix had her in her sights (May Merlin bless that witch's soul, never!) And now, from herself.

Tonks's brows furrowed in a slight frown as she waved away thoughts of her accident for now and forced her mind to refocus her attention on the question that her husband had just posed to her. She sighed and continued speaking.

"It is no easy feat, to help care for me as I've been healing now these last several days, but you've stayed right by me every minute," Tonks began hesitantly, fully aware that Lupin never once averted his gaze from hers as she spoke. "You love me." There was a pause. A beat and Tonks swallowed down hard past the growing lump in her throat as it hollowed and constricted, feeling like it was cutting off much-needed air to her passageways, and she felt dizzy all of a sudden, though she swallowed again and forced herself to continue. Remus needed to hear this, whether he wanted to or not. "You will not allow yourself to _feel_ it, Remus. It does not take a genius like Dumbledore to see that you have been burying your pains of life behind…this," she murmured, gesturing with a curt wave of her hand as she noticed his forced smile.

Tonks watched as Remus flinched at her cold words, knowing they were true, though she did not back down from her resolve. If anything, it strengthened.

And finally, Tonks emanated a tense exhale through her nose as she asked the one question of her husband that she knew she needed an answer to, though there was a larger part of her brain that was terrified to hear the man's response, she had to.

"Do you hate me, Remus? I—I know I shouldn't have left our house that night. I should have…waited for you, like you said, a—and none of this would have happened to me. To you. Do you hate me?" She swallowed as she heard the faltering crack and dip in her voice, and for a moment, though she could not bear to look the man in the eyes, to see his pained expression and look of rancor within his eyes.

But neither could she bring herself to pull away. So, here she sat, trapped in his gaze, and waiting between these two very different worlds. The world of the woods behind their home, and her entire world which was seated next to her, waiting for them to reconcile, or at the very least, come to a mutual understanding with each other as husband and wife. Tonks wasn't even aware that she was biting down hard on her bottom lip, hard enough for the delicate skin of her lips to crack and bleed.

At least, not until Remus reached up a hand and swatted her own hand away as she started to pick out of it out of restless agitation and utter nervousness.

" _No_ ," Lupin answered immediately, drifting one of his hands to fall overtop of hers as she saw no other choice but to rest them uncomfortably in her lap. "I could never _hate_ you, Dora. _Ever_. I hope that you don't hate me, either."

There was another beat. A pause in his wife's response was admittedly nothing that Remus could have hoped for, but then—

"How, Rem?" Tonks breathed, her steely grey eyes wide and round as she desperately searched Lupin's eyes for any semblance of the honest truth, though she knew he was not lying to her at this moment. Lupin had never once led her astray, forced her to do anything that she was not comfortable with during her healing process, except for making her eat eggs.

Something that her stomach was having a hard time keeping down these days, though they were a good source of protein and calcium, so she ate what little she could manage to keep down within her churning stomach without too much complaining.

"How what?" Remus asked, blinking at Tonks, feeling dazed and confused as to how their conversation had ended up shifting and taking this sudden turn.

Tonks made a noise that sounded like a sniff and shook her head in disappointment, a lock of wavy plum hair bouncing slightly as she did so. "How could I _possibly_ hate you, Remus?"

The very concept of such an idea seemed to greatly disturb Dora, for her already pale face worsened as what little color was left within her rosy cheeks drained and she looked stricken suddenly, her lips agape in shock and she looked as though Lupin had slapped her. "Because you, out of all of them, were truly the best of them? After the horrible way that I treated you when I—when we first met, you still treat me like I am someone on a pedestal, a queen, or something? And yet, you still find yourself at fault for what has happened to me, but you _aren't_. You. Are. Not. Remus."

Remus ran his tongue over the wall of his teeth as he struggled to think of an apt response to the question his wife had just posted to him, but Tonks was not quite finished yet, and as a result, he had no time to formulate his next sentence.

"Oh, but Remus, you are a difficult man to hate. I see that now. You have _saved_ my life, more times than I can count now or even care to admit. You are a _good_ man," she murmured, glancing down at their now-joined hands as they rested in her lap. " _Kind_ , even to those like _me_ who do not _deserve_ your unfailing kindness nor your mercy," Tonks scowled, a dark look crossing over her features, and Remus knew without even having to ask her that she was thinking of how he had stopped her from almost killing her Aunt Bellatrix, saying that she would have regretted it if she had. "Even when you do not have to be, and that is the thing that makes you beautiful."

Tonks shook her head and sighed, and when she lifted her chin, Lupin was surprised to see the beginnings of tears prick at the corners of her eyes, stinging and blurring her vision. "But you are incapable of seeing yourself as _I_ do, Remus."

Stillness filled the air between them as Lupin could not help but stare at his wife, at an utter loss, perhaps for the first time in his entire life, his mouth open, though nothing was coming to him as he struggled to think of something—anything—to say in response to his wife's statement. Never once in his life had someone spoken to him in this regard, not even Lily had said such things to him in the years when she'd still been alive.

Remus raised his eyebrows at Tonks, they shot so far up onto his forehead that they almost disappeared into his mop of light brown hair. His first natural instinct was to brush off Dora's remarks and deny everything she had just said, but the darkening look resting in Tonks's gray orbs as they darkened in color, almost cerulean in color the more upset that she got over this, warned him against it.

In fact, in the year now that they had been husband and wife, Remus could not for the life of him recall ever seeing such a strange look on Dora's face. Intermingling on her features was a potent mixture of sadness, uneasiness, sincerity, and…something else, a foreign emotion he didn't know what she might be feeling at this moment, here with him, under the elm tree.

If he was being completely honest with himself, it both frightened him and held him captivated and enthralled by her gaze, unable to tear his gaze away.

"You have sad eyes, Rem," Tonks pointed out, a pained expression on her face. "You see yourself as immoral, something not right because of… _this_ ," she murmured, gesturing to her husband's scars on his face with a curt wave of her hand. "This…horrible anger that you feel, you keep it bottled within, this coldness that is not like you at all. It's all directed towards yourself, and this world that both of us live in that treats neither one of us as fairly as we deserve. You do not care for yourself."

Remus looked away and lowered his head in shame as her words hit him like a chunk of ice or a dagger pierced straight through his heart, twisting in his chest as a fiery heat. Tonks bit her lip, able to tell that her husband did not want to accept her words as fact, though he must. Tonks heaved a small sigh of frustration as the young woman realized what she'd just said wasn't enough. She dared to scoot a fraction of an inch closer on the spare blanket she had conjured, and if she were any closer by this point in their conversation, Tonks would practically be straddling his lap.

She was briefly tempted to. "You feel powerless, Rem, because you don't know how to fix this," Tonks spoke, raking her fingers through his hair in the way that she knew he always liked of her to do, and she bit the inside wall of her cheek as a shudder of…something traveled down Remus's spine, though he made no effort to remove her hand. Tonks wasn't at all surprised when his hands gripped onto her waist tightly, though the glower he shot her suggested he looked like a defensive caged beast ready to sink its claws into her flesh if she dared to cross this boundary did. "You punish yourself for your condition, Remus, and mine," she whispered, reaching up a hand to card back a stray lock of his hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. "You still do. But you cannot help that Greyback attacked you. As such, it makes you feel as though you lack purpose in this world. But we _all_ feel like this at times, Remus."

"Like what?" Lupin asked, furrowing his brows into a small frown.

Tonks's voice had faltered halfway through her speech to her husband and trailed off, because she had soon come to the realization that she had, in fact, been speaking of herself. Quick to recognize her sudden mistake, Tonks turned away and sighed. They were much alike. They both felt the same things. Wanted the same thing.

At least, she _hoped_ that they did. Tonks emanated a tense exhale through her nose and swiveled her head back around to regard Remus, whose light brown eyes had darkened with such intensity, glistening with some unspoken emotion that she wasn't sure what he might be feeling at this moment. "You have…you've been burying your pain, Rem. Let yourself feel it," Tonks whispered by way of responding to his question.

"Pain?" Lupin repeated, sounding as though he could not believe her words. "Who said I was in pain? Did—did someone in the Order say something to you? Was it Sirius?" Lupin spoke again, his voice solemn and bordering on the edge of disbelief.

Tonks merely proceeded to say nothing and instead offered a sad smile and rested her cheek in her hand. "You did not have to say it. Your expression speaks for yourself. You have sad eyes, Remus." A pause in response was nothing she could have hoped for, as Lupin closed his eyes as if he were fighting back against something terrible and losing. They stayed closed as if he could not bear to look upon his wife next to him.

Tonks felt her brows knit together in confusion as she processed the hurt she felt inside at the man's silence to her what should have been an obvious statement, but could not understand for the life of her why she felt so disappointed by his sullenness.

"Tonks…" murmured Lupin, his fingers on her waist tightening slightly, sending a spiraling heat through Dora's system. "After…after what happened in the woods, with your…accident, then…you must know that I…" His voice trailed off in silence.

Tonks felt her eyes widen in shock as she looked up, Remus still continuing to keep his eyes closed and his jaw clenched shut with the effort to restrain himself from doing… _something_ , though what that was, she didn't know.

Was he…was he talking about what she thought he was talking about? "Know what?" she whispered hoarsely in response, and Remus John Lupin was no _fool_.

Far from it. He was perhaps one of the cleverest men in all of England that Tonks had ever met. He knew Tonks was not ignorant of the fact that ever since that moment in the woods, when she'd regained consciousness, when his affirmation of love had brought her back to him, back to life, there had been that look exchanged between the two of them, though no words were spoken, and it was then that something had changed.

And all the anxiety Lupin had felt for the past several days had inevitably led up to this moment, the two of them alone, and uninterrupted for a change of pace.

Lupin's gaze drifted down towards her lips, he realized tonight Dora wore a different expression, and it hit him square in the chest, this painful realization that Remus soon recognized that his greatest fear had perhaps come true. She _did_ feel the unimaginable foreign thing that had churned inside of him now for weeks, that she did not blame him for all of this. He leaned in a little closer, their foreheads touching.

Dear Merlin above help him, he couldn't fight against the thoughts that were going through him. This wasn't _right_ , it was too _soon_ , she was still _healing_... but his senses had been seduced by his wife, and he was no longer thinking straight. Her very _smell_ was flooding his senses now...

But he had no chance to ponder over this before Tonks promptly closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his. Lupin froze at the unexpected intimacy, the line she had just crossed, his light brown eyes wide and unblinking in shock. She leaned up and captured his mouth without warning, giving him virtually no time to think or react, but they fit so perfectly together, it was like they were made for one another, and he could swear he heard the Wolf within the confines of his chest practically growling in pleasure, and Lupin could not help but let out a sigh, thinking that he really _did_ love her.

Whenever he made love to her, sweat gleaming on her skin, her delicate hands curled into fists and her eyes screwed tight, he could never quite get enough of it.

Slowly, he ran his hands down her glorious body. Her skin was so flawless, smooth, and perfect, soft on her hips as he spread her thighs with his lean fingers and the first moan escaped her lips, the sound half-muffled. He lowered his lips to hers, capturing her mouth in a greedy kiss.

"It's been a few days, Dora," he whispered, a smirk on his handsome features. "I've missed our time together, love," he said tenderly and quietly. His wife opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped her. "Shush, don't speak, just let me..." he commanded, raising a gentle finger to her lips, shushing her. "Are you...feeling up for this?"

She nodded, though she offered no verbal retort. He continued with his efforts to please her, leaving a gentle trail of kisses down her neck and to her collarbones, hearing her whimpers and feeling her body shift beneath his. Tonks's breathing became uneven, cracking, twitching slightly as he drew away, rolling her head to one side, exposing the curve of her neck, the beautiful shell of her ear, shuddering as he gently nipped her earlobe and whispered promises to her, promises of what's to come in their moment.

Tonks made a muted little sound in the back of her throat but this time, just this time, he does not listen as he claimed her for himself and himself alone, his ire and wrath that had been pent up towards the Wolf that he knew he was, that he still, despite Dora's words, blamed himself for what had happened to his wife, coming out in the form of aggression as he nipped and bit, and loved his wife harder than he meant to, hearing her small cries of pain, though this did not slow his movements, his hands wound tightly on the edges of the blanket before drifting to the back of her head, finding purchase in her hair, his fingers entangled in her wavy tresses, his own hair falling in his eyes and shading everything. His wife panted for breath, her body reacting to his touch, moving in sync with his movements.

For a moment, he stayed over his wife, his arms trembling slightly. He raked his hand down her thigh gently, feeling her tremble as his touch left a static frenzy in their wake, as he leaned down and kissed her gently.

"Love me, Rem?" she whispered, with a smile forming on her face that he can't help but smile back at and return lovingly.

"Always," he promised lovingly, leaning down to kiss her again. "I wouldn't have it any other way. I'll always love you. Until the world ends, and after."

And that, Tonks, supposed as she nestled her head into the crook of his chest as she felt Lupin pull the second spare blanket over top of them as she closed her eyes, listening to the slow rhythmic beating of his heart…that was good enough for her.


	11. To Lose Everything

**A/N:** **Fair warning ahead, the next chapters are going to get kind of rough for poor Tonks as she deals with the aftermath of her attack and its consequences, though what happened to her WAS an accident, that doesn't mean the rest of the world sees it that way. I wanted to show just what the wizarding society (outside of those in the Order and her coworkers at the Ministry that she trusts) thinks of werewolves so we're going to see a little bit of that prejudice for the next couple of chapters, though I promise I won't let anything too bad happen to Tonks!** **She's my favorite character and I don't enjoy seeing her suffer much, or at the very least, at least not without someone being by her side for all of this that's ahead.**

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**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Two weeks following the aftermath of Tonks's attack, on Friday morning, just as she had all throughout the week, Tonks was still mulling over Norah Jameson's words to her earlier in the St. Mungo's hospital room, how her life would change, to _forget_ her life as she knew it, as that life was now over with.

She hadn't really been able to think of much else, though Molly and Ginny had graciously stopped by their cottage with a homemade casserole for the two of them, and Mrs. Weasley had insisted on dragging Tonks to Diagon Alley with her to shop for a new dress for Bill and Fleur's wedding upcoming next week.

Tonks had managed to find a long black maxi dress that would suit her needs well and hide her pregnancy.

Tonks until she was ready to announce their news, that she and Remus were becoming parents, to the rest of the Order later on.

She sighed as soft rays of sunlight from the egg-yolk sun filtered in the light through the window of their bedroom in their cottage. The window managed to soften the harsh, almost blinding rays before it rested on their bed, as gentle and as soothing as a kiss would be.

It threw the beams of yellow gold across the covers of their quilt just as easily as it cast lingering long shadows in the folds of the fabric of the bedcover, mapping out Tonks's body as it pressed against her, the blanket the only current barrier between herself and the cold bedroom.

Tonks had quite forgotten they had slept with the window open last month to allow fresh October air to waft in through their cottage and air the place out.

She was tired and nauseated from the harsh, disgusting smell of the thick green paste-like ointment that Lupin had been commanded by the St. Mungo's Healer to dab onto the scars on the right side of her neck to minimize scarring.

Their wine-colored comforters were perhaps the softest thing that Tonks had ever slept on in her entire life. Remus's father had given them to the couple upon learning the two were expectant parents in another nine months or so and had insisted on finding the warmest comforter that his money could buy, in order to ensure the mother of his future granddaughter or grandson stayed warm and healthy throughout the colder months as fall dragged on in Great Britain at its petty pace. Tonks would have been perfectly content to lay in bed all morning, to drown herself in the pleasant sensation if it weren't for Remus still asleep next to her.

Tonks slowly rolled over back on her side to look at Remus, the only sign the man was still alive was the steady rise and fall of his chest, and occasionally a muted little grunt. Her lips slowly etched upward into a soft smile as she saw that her husband was still deeply asleep.

Remus, due to his full-time duties for the Order of the Phoenix for Dumbledore, often rose with the sun and started his day way before Tonks did, but this time, she was awake first and decided to take advantage of the momentary peace and tranquility to watch.

Tonks bit the inside wall of her cheek as she shifted, having to prop herself up on her elbow to look at Remus, trying to be as quiet as a mouse so as to not wake him up. Whenever Remus would catch her staring at him like this, he would more often times than not start to tease her and tell Tonks to cut it out, to stop bewitching him and putting him under her spell, though now this was a rare opportunity for her to observe Remus undetected, and Tonks aimed to take full advantage of the minute while it lasted. The dark wine color of their bed's comforter made Remus's pale skin stand out in contrast, with spots of color from his thick tuft of short dark hair evident to see.

Tonks blinked owlishly as she noticed changes that she had not noticed before. Either she'd never paid close enough attention or this had simply been overlooked by her. She was surprised to see that Remus looked younger, the hardened lines on his face from somewhat of a stressful life of constantly fretting and worrying after Tonks's well-being were softened in sleep like this, and almost looked to the young Auror and witch practically non-existent.

Now that he wasn't awake and scowling every time Tonks put herself into somewhat precarious positions, much as they had feared this new one would. Though she did not want to admit it to herself, she had a feeling agreeing to help that blonde She-Wolf who had visited her in St. Mungo's a week ago, that by helping track down her son, who was undoubtedly in the clutches of Fenrir Greyback, that their lives were about to become much more complicated.

And Tonks was _not_ about to back down on her promise, no matter how dangerous this new life would get. Abandoning the job now just because there was a very strong likelihood that she would eventually run into Greyback, given she and Remus had already agreed to help Norah Jameson, or had been from the start, meant not being there for Norah, and considering Tonks had already agreed to help, if only for the sake of her husband, Tonks was not about to abandon Remus when he needed Tonks's help the most. She knew Lupin still blamed himself, and until he was able to come to terms with it on his own, then she was just going to have to find subtle and small ways to show that it wasn't.

_No way_ , she thought and ground her top molars until they clenched tightly shut. Tonks blinked and forced her gaze to return to that of her sleeping husband, her eyes inexplicably drawn to the divot of Remus's lips. He was a handsome man, and Tonks wondered if before she had come along if there were any other witches in his life who he had broken their hearts when he had rejected them out of fear of not wanting to endanger their lives due to his condition.

For an inexplicable moment, at that unpleasant thought, of the idea with Remus with another woman, any other but her, Tonks felt a stab of jealousy prick at her heartstrings, and she swallowed down hard as she tried to quell and tamper the unnecessary, sudden feeling. Remus was with _her_. Not Hestia Jones, not Emmeline Vance. _Her_. Just her. This strange, unfounded spark of jealousy just had to stop. It wasn't like her at all.

Tonks let out the tiniest of sighs as her glistening gray eyes traced along with Remus's pale features, smiling softly at each and every one of them, and finally, her gaze landed on his slender, straight nose. Tonks had always loved his nose next to his glistening light brown eyes, his best feature along with his dark thick hair, and had to restrain herself from kissing it, touching it, bopping him on the nose whenever she was in a 'mood.'

She loved to trace it with the pads of her fingertips. Luckily, she'd done so once during an Order meeting earlier, but that was a few days ago already, and Remus was long overdue for another one.

_Perhaps just one…?_

Tonks bit down on her bottom lip and slowly leaned forward. Surely, Remus was too deep in sleep to notice just one small, featherlight touch. He was still asleep, after all. Though before she could lightly tap his nose with the pad of her left index finger, his soft voice cut through the otherwise silent atmosphere of their bedroom. "I can _feel_ you staring at me, Dora," Remus's voice murmured sleepily. Tonks jumped and let out a squeak, frightened by the sudden murmur that came from her husband.

Tonks's gaze darted upwards, drawing in a breath of cool fresh autumnal air that sent a chill down her spine, only to see Remus's darkened brown eyes wide open and staring at the young witch who held his heart captive, regarding the young auburn-haired beauty and her reaction to learning that he had, all this time, not been deep in sleep, after all.

She guiltily tried to move away, feeling ashamed for having woken him up, fully intending to get out of bed and take a shower and get dressed to head out for work, or she'd be late, but his hand came out and slid across her hips, gripping onto the fabric of her pajama pants, stalling her movements and effectively preventing her from getting out of bed right now.

Though when Remus slowly smiled at her, Tonks felt the tension in her shoulders leave her and she felt herself offer her husband a grin of her own.

"I never said I didn't _like_ it, Dora," Remus murmured huskily with a low smile. He reached up a strong hand to stroke underneath her chin and cup it firmly in his hand, forcing Tonks to look at him. "And now it's _my_ turn."

Before Tonks could react, he brought her down to kiss him, pulling the wine-colored blankets back over her with his other hand as he did so tenderly.

* * *

Arthur Weasley furrowed his brows in a frown as he headed down the hallway from his cubicle in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office and headed towards none other than the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic's office. Dolores Jane Umbridge. It was nearing the end of his workday, going on 4:30 p.m., so he wondered what the Senior Undersecretary to Rufus Scrimgeour wanted with him, exactly.

Arthur clenched his teeth and ground them in anger as just the thought of the stout witch's name who favored pink plastered a quiet vibration underneath his skin and made it crawl. _What on Merlin's green earth does she want with the likes of me? I've done nothing_ … He thought, his anxiety worsening the closer he got to Dolores Umbridge's door. He paused, straining his ears for more sounds, and if he listened close enough, he could hear faint, muffled voices coming from inside. Arthur heard the baritone voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt and the soft, quiet susurration that sounded like a fresh breeze that he recognized immediately as Tonks's voice.

Mr. Weasley's frown deepened as he mulled over how upset she sounded. His brows knitting together, he raised his knuckles to knock, though before he even could, there was a clicking of the locking mechanism and the door swung wide open, revealing Dolores Jane Umbridge seated behind her mahogany desk, her wand pointed directly at the door, and a soft, simpering smile on her face. Though Arthur was not fooled. He knew this woman was a true witch in every literal sense of the word, that she took sick delight in causing misfortune.

"Ah. Arthur. You got my memo, then, I take it? You're right on time, dear," Dolores Umbridge simpered in a sweet and honeyed voice, dripping with ire.

Arthur nodded mutely, not sure what to say, though judging by the look that Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tonks were shooting him, whatever he had been summoned here for, it was not going to be a pleasant meeting, this he knew.

"Please. Come in, come in, and have a seat. Would you care for some tea and biscuits, Mr. Weasley? You're looking a bit peaky, Mr. Weasley. Are you hungry, dear?" Umbridge made a point of asking, all the while waving her wand and conjuring a mug of steaming hot tea along with a plate of cookies.

Still keeping that insufferable smile plastered onto her pudgy features, she shoved the plate of cookies and the teacup on its saucer across her desk at Arthur as he waved his wand and conjured a chair, pulling it up so that he was seated to Tonks's immediate left, while Kingsley remained seated on her right.

He wasn't but thought it ill manners to refuse the offer from the Senior Undersecretary, who reported directly to Minister Scrimgeour, now that Cornelius Fudge had been forced out of office due to the general public screaming for his resignation once the public learned the truth that Sirius was innocent. Begrudgingly and with great reluctance, he numbly accepted the tea and the small plate of cookies, though he made no move to eat or drink at all.

Mr. Weasley hated to think this as he looked at their Senior Undersecretary, but Umbridge was an unpleasant woman. Dolores Jane Umbridge was not overly old, but her body had aged passed her years so much that she now wore the wizened features of an old crone, and not a nice one either.

No sage was she come to offer wisdom to those who sought her advice. Her short brown curly hair framed her aging and lined face that no amount of makeup could conceal. Her forehead was wrinkled by many peaks and trenches—caused by years of consistent scowling—which unflatteringly crowned eyes that permanently harbored a disdainful glower, shadowing their uniquely beautiful shade of brown, perhaps Umbridge's only redeeming feature was her eyes.

Her entire face seemed drained of any signs of joy and amusement, and instead, her frumpy cheeks told a tale of regular, consistent displeasure.

And right now, it would seem, as Mr. Weasley shot cautious glances at Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin out of the corner of his eye while trying to remain as discreet as possible, that the stout witch's rancor was directed solely at Tonks.

Dolores Jane Umbridge coughed once in a simpering tone to clear her throat that in all honesty sounded to Mr. Weasley like more of a high-pitched schoolgirl giggle, and she still wore that fake smile that tugged her pink-lipstick coated lips upward, but it sent a tremor of revulsion, disgust, down his back.

"I assume, Mr.'s Weasley and Shacklebolt, that you know _why_ I have summoned you both here?" she began, speaking very slowly and clearly, as though she were addressing twelve-year-old children instead of fully grown adult wizards in their forties. Kingsley offered a curt nod of his head, his expression grim and his lips pursed into such a thin line, they almost disappeared, whereas Arthur proceeded to raise his eyebrows in confusion.

"No, Madame Undersecretary," Arthur murmured, thinking it best in this unpleasant scenario to tell Dolores Umbridge the truth, given who she reported to. The last thing he needed was to give an excuse for the Minister to fire him.

Dolores regarded Arthur in silence for a moment, before her gaze flitted to Tonks, seated in the middle, with either wizard flanking both sides of the girl.

The edge of her lips was pushed upward, scrunching her left eye up, making the brown of her iris appear almost black, which Arthur thought appropriate.

_Now the color of her eyes matches her black heart_ , Mr. Weasley thought rather meanly, feeling immensely grateful that Dolores Umbridge was no skilled Legilimens and could not read his mind, for she would have perhaps suspended him or fired him just for _thinking_ that unpleasant thought of his.

Her lips parted a centimeter, yet the faked smile on her pudgy, stout features made Umbridge appear much too arrogant, like any witch in power.

" _No_?" she simpered in her honey-sweet voice dripping with venomous sarcasm. She fumbled for a moment with one of the drawers of her desk before procuring a simple manilla envelope and sliding it across the desk to Arthur. "Perhaps _that_ will help refresh your memory, my dear," Umbridge snapped.

The thick uncomfortable silence that lingered in the air as Dolores allowed her words to hang in the air engulfed Mr. Weasley's conscience as he allowed a small sigh of anxiety to escape the confines of his chest, throat, and lips as he reached with somewhat trembling fingers and flipped open the envelope.

He heard Tonks draw in a sharp, rattling breath and her small gasp of surprise as her medical chart and release papers from St. Mungo's poured out onto the desk's surface, as well as moving photographic evidence of Tonks's attack. Healers no doubt had taken the pictures during her stay in the hospital, no doubt to use as reference in order to treat the bite wounds on her neck.

A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of his right eye, his mouth forming a rigid grimace as he wordlessly handed the envelope back to Umbridge, who silently accepted it without a word, clasping her hands together and waiting for Arthur to find his words. But how in Merlin's Beard _could_ he?

What was he to _say_ to all of this? That Umbridge had somehow managed to obtain what should have otherwise been classified as private documentation of Tonks's admittance into St. Mungo's following the aftermath of her vicious mauling? That Dolores was now prying into the personal life of a fellow friend and Order member (though he dared not reveal that last bit) and was now about to witness Remus Lupin's wife suffer even more for it because of her?

Mr. Weasley felt his heart sink to the pit of his already churning stomach as a coil in his gut twisted. This was _not_ going to bode well for his friend and co-worker, he could already tell by the quiet, smoldering rage that was gathering in Dolores Jane Umbridge's darkened brown eyes that they looked black.

He glanced sideways out of the corner of his vision at Remus's wife. One look over at Tonks was _more_ than enough for Arthur.

A cold sweat had begun to glisten on her furrowed brow. With her hands clasped tightly in front of her stomach, the poor thing constantly fiddled with her knuckles, weaving her fingers in and out of each other, and when _that_ no longer worked, she shoved her knuckles in her mouth and bit down hard, and then began to toy with a lock of her loose wavy hair (it had not escaped Arthur's attention that Tonks had now taken to wearing her shoulder-length, layered hairstyle loose in order to hide the scars on her neck and conceal the truth from her coworkers here at the Ministry.), a rich vibrant red this morning, and began to toy with it incessantly.

Tonks had never allowed Umbridge to see her with pink or purple hair. To the best of his ability, Arthur recounted if Dolores even knew the truth about Nymphadora's abilities as a Metamorphmagus, as she had always been seen in Umbridge's company with her shoulder-length hair various shades of reds, browns, sometimes blondes, all 'natural' colors in Umbridge's eyes, at least.

Arthur thought the young witch was dressed respectably this morning in a long-sleeved V-neck black silk blouse, a pair of long black flared trouser pants, no doubt to hide the evidence of her mauling, all of the various black and blue bruises on her legs that were still healing from her attack, and her hair (as usual) was loose, and a rich red coppery color this late afternoon, hiding her neck wounds. Respectable and professional in every sense of Tonks's look.

When Umbridge spoke, her voice had lost its false, matronly tone, and now, as she directly addressed Tonks personally, her voice was clipped, hardened.

"You have been _concealing_ the nature of your _disgusting_ condition, Mrs. Lupin, in addition to the fact that you have failed to bring to the Ministry's attention, that you have _illegally_ married the werewolf Remus John Lupin."

Tonks made an odd little strangled noise at the back of her throat that sounded like a whine as she continued to toy with the lock of her hair in between her thumb and forefinger, as she bit down on her bottom lip, seeming like she was blinking back the onset of tears and fighting the urge to cry.

She slowly lowered her hand and clutched onto the strap of her black purse tightly, her fingers curling into fists around her bag as she held it to her chest.

As though it were her only lifeline, and the muffled whimper that escaped from her throat sounded like that of a wounded pup after it had been kicked.

"Madame Undersecretary, it's… what happened to me was an _accident_ ," Tonks began, her soft voice barely above a whisper. "Just—just give me a chance to _explain_ , _please_ ," she begged, biting her bottom lip in anguish.

But Umbridge pursed her lips into a thin line and held up her hand, effectively cutting the young Auror off from speaking further. Arthur shot a concerned look with Kingsley, though they knew it was not their place to speak up, as heartbreaking as this situation was for Tonks. They too would lose their jobs if they spoke out against Umbridge, and Arthur's family counted on him.

And as for Kingsley, his wife was pregnant with their first child, due any day now, and for him to so suddenly lose his job before the birth of his son or daughter would be a tragedy, though he knew this was even _worse_ for Tonks.

"There is _nothing_ to explain, my dear," Umbridge growled in a much more menacing tone than before, all traces of warmth and false sympathy gone.

Arthur's blood boiled, anger surging through his veins, and he clenched his teeth in the effort to remain silent. He knew that Kingsley was struggling to remain mute as well, he could tell by the way the man's jaw muscles twitched.

"You have _purposefully_ omitted vital information from the Ministry in regards to matters of your personal health which pose a danger to everyone around you, Mrs. Lupin, and you have not been forthcoming in matters surrounding your _illegal_ marriage towards the _werewolf_ , Remus Lupin," Umbridge spat, crinkling her nose in disgust and licking her lips to moisten them. "You thought you could _hide_ this from me, dear? Did you honestly for a moment believe that you could keep your status as a newly-turned werewolf a secret, Nymphadora? Did you truly think that you would just get away with this, that I would not _know_ , dearie? Do you take me for a _fool_ , is _that_ it, Mrs. Lupin?"

Umbridge shook her head sadly and clucked her tongue in disappointment, as though she had just expected Tonks to do the right thing and come to Umbridge with the truth, knowing full well what it would mean for her and Remus if she had done so right from the start.

"I don't _think_ so. Neither of you registered under the Act the moment your little… _accident_ occurred. Your very presence within the Ministry's walls is a _threat_ to the Ministry's employees, Mrs. Lupin, and we cannot have that now, can we dear? _No_.…" Umbridge let out a high-pitched sigh of disappointment.

Tonks swallowed down hard past the growing lump in her throat as it hollowed and constricted, and suddenly, she felt like she couldn't breathe.

She could hear her breaths hitch and catch in her throat, and the tightening of her throat and her sudden, short intake of breath forecast the explosion of emotions following her accident, which, to date, Tonks had managed to suppress and keep buried deep within, not wanting Remus to worry further.

Not anymore though, as the emotions currently raging war within the confines of her chest as her heart pounded relentlessly against its cage, and the throbbing of her temples, was too powerful and gut-wrenching to be kept in check. The tearing at her very soul was way too compelling and energetic to be contained.

The vision she still had, began to swim in front of her as tears welled from deep inside and coursed down her cheeks, and she didn't care if Arthur or Kingsley saw it. Tonks felt more wet hot tears fill up her eyes as her throat closed tight and each word pitched higher than the last in the vain effort to squeak out the words that were bottled up, pent up inside of her chest.

"Y—You're _firing_ me?" she squeaked, her voice breathy and disbelieving. Her gaze briefly flitted from Kingsley and Arthur as she looked to the left and right, who both shot her sympathetic glances, though offered no remark. She turned back towards Umbridge and swallowed down past her growing lump. "Y—you can't _fire_ me for being a _werewolf_ , Madame Undersecretary, I—I'm pretty sure that's _five_ kinds of _illegal_!" she protested, anger and fear welling deep within the churning pits of her stomach, and she tasted bitter bile as the acidic, disgusting layer of her stomach lining snaked its way up her throat. "What happened to me was _not_ my choice!"

"It is not just about that matters surrounding your lycanthropy, Mrs. Lupin," Umbridge spoke up in a calm and collected manner as she laced her pudgy fingers together, her arms resting across the spotless surface of her desk. "Times have _changed_ , Mrs. Lupin. You're an incredibly smart and gifted young witch. I do not think I need to tell you this, and yet, I will do so anyway, out of the goodness of my heart," she simpered, throwing Tonks a honey-sweet smile. "Alastor and Arthur here have expressed verbal concerns about your stamina upon your return to work so soon, less than two weeks after your discharge from St. Mungo's and—"

" _Moody_?" Tonks interjected before Umbridge could finish her statement, which Arthur could tell perturbed the Senior Undersecretary to no end, practically watching the fine hairs on her neck stand up. Tonks rounded on Arthur, pursing her lips into a thin line. "M—Mr. Weasley, did you _say_ something to anyone here at the Ministry about what happened?" she demanded hotly, looking at Arthur with what Mr. Weasley could only perceive as venom in her piercing steely grey eyes, currently flashing cold, and glistening with unshed tears. "Moody _said_ something to you?" she managed to croak out.

There was such a look of antagonizing hurt that Arthur could hardly bear it.

Umbridge paused, her lips pursing into such a thin, rigid line, that for a moment, her mouth almost disappeared entirely.

"In the wake of the Battle of Hogwarts and Lord Voldemort's defeat, the needs of the Ministry have _changed_. All performances are evaluated, and some of your colleagues have expressed _concerns_ about your physical and mental stamina going forward regarding the nature of your new unfortunate condition, and your possible inability to keep up with the high, stressful demands that come with the requirements of being able to perform your job _adequately_ , Mrs. Lupin. The largest considerations are, of course, budgetary, and the plain fact of the matter is, dearie, is that there is no room on the staff for a _werewolf_. Not even one of your skillset and experience, Mrs. Lupin. No exceptions can be made. You would only be putting yourself _and_ your coworkers in a precarious position, not to mention in mortal peril if you were to accidentally attack one of them," Dolores went on to explain. "If _that_ were to happen, my dear, you would be facing hefty fines, not to mention assuming responsibility in full for their medical coverages and would likely be looking of at _least_ a minimum of a year's term in Azkaban Prison."

Arthur stiffened as Tonks did not immediately say anything, as she had a hand clamped over her mouth, her face twisted and contorted in disbelief.

Tonks's silent weeping was worse than a tantrum or screaming match. Her eyes welled up with such a sadness that her young years should not possess.

The silence of her cry was eerie as she sniffed like she had been forced to learn how to do this, and for all Arthur knew of his friend and coworker, she had. What would it take to mend a soul as damaged as that and who would try?

Mr. Weasley wanted to scoop her up and take her home, have Molly make Tonks a nice cup of tea until she felt safe enough to return home to Remus and tell the man of her unfortunate news, pour love into her until she felt safe enough to cry out loud when she felt hurt. But he was supposed to be stoic and collectible, immune to the weeping of a friend, and he could not react to this.

Tonks glanced down at her lap, one hand still clamped over her mouth, her face creased and her fist closed so tight she could feel the sweat trapped inside it as her hand that rested in her lap not covering her mouth as she tasted bile had started to violently shake. She coughed once to try to quell her tears.

" _Please_ ," she begged in a voice so faint it was barely a whisper as she slowly lifted her head and spoke directly to Umbridge. "Please don't do this. Please don't…take this _away_ from me. I—I'm _pregnant_ , Madame Undersecretary…."

Umbridge, however, remained unstirred and unfazed by Tonks's plea. She merely offered the young witch sitting on the opposite side of her desk a simpering smile.

"Yet another reason why I cannot allow you to remain gainfully employed at the Ministry, my dear. You are setting a terrible example for the rest of the wizardkind by having them believe it is perfectly acceptable to consort and mate with werewolves. Were you willing to, shall we say, 'rectify' this little problem immediately, there is a chance I might be persuaded to make special arrangements for you, dearie, and put in a word for you to find employment outside of the Ministry? Despite your accident, I have rather come to like you, Mrs. Lupin, and though I cannot allow you to remain employed here, that does not mean that I cannot put in a good word for you elsewhere."

Tonks's face drained of color and her lips parted open in shock. "Rectify the…" her voice trailed off as her mind struggled to process Umbridge's words.

Tonks opened her mouth to speak up as she finally realized what Umbridge meant, though no words came out. She merely proceeded to frown through her tears and grit her teeth in anger, and Mr. Weasley, sensing danger, reached out and laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, though Tonks shrugged out of it.

"How _dare_ you?!" spat Tonks, bolting from the chair she had been forced to sit in and almost overturned it in her haste to stand up, Kingsley and Arthur slowly following suit, each shooting the other cautious looks in case they needed to subdue Remus's wife, though Arthur sincerely hoped they wouldn't.

"Madame Undersecretary, you might not like werewolves, and I might be one, but you must be positively _insane_ to think that I would even _consider_ the idea of terminating my pregnancy, no matter what rules I have broken, Dolores! I—I would rather _quit_ this place entirely than get rid of our baby!"

She staggered backward in her shock and outrage and would have fallen had Arthur not maintained a steady grip on both of her shoulders, firmly keeping her upright. Tonks craned her neck upward slightly to look the Weasley patriarch in the eyes and silently tried to thank Mr. Weasley with her eyes.

"Come away, Tonks," Arthur murmured into the shell of her ear, trying to keep his voice low so that only Tonks could hear him. "You don't need to do this. Come away," he urged, lowering one of his hands to tug at her arm, though Tonks yanked out of his grip and pursed her full lips into a thin, rigid line.

Tonks was panting and breathing heavily from exertion, but she did not reply. She turned away from Arthur and Kingsley and merely stared at Umbridge, her chin turned slightly upward, though there was no mistaking the look of defeat in Tonks's eyes and in her overall body language, Arthur thought.

Dolores Jane Umbridge slowly stood from her chair behind her desk, her posture tense and rigid, and her brows furrowed together in a heavy scowl.

The short, stout witch clad in a vibrant hot pink cardigan and dress huffed in frustration, and when she addressed Tonks, the edges of her voice were hardened, clipped, and her brown eyes were smoldering with fathomless rage.

"Rest assured, dearie, I cannot allow this _undesirable_ behavior of yours to continue. Make no mistake, your actions for failing to register both you and your husband under the Werewolf Registry, and as a consequence of the fact that you have _lied_ , not only to _me_ , Mrs. Lupin, but your coworkers as well, I am afraid that I have no choice but to fire you. Your last paycheck will be sent to your home via owl post, and Mr. Shacklebolt and Mr. Weasley will escort you to your desk where you may gather up your belongings and you shall be removed from Ministry premises _immediately_ ," Dolores Jane Umbridge commanded.

Arthur bit the inside wall of his cheek as Tonks lowered her head, her moment of furious rancor immediately replaced with a sense of hopelessness.

He had never seen Remus's wife stand like this. Her loose shoulders shook, her hands hanging low, one of her fists curled around the strap of her black purse for support, making no attempt to conceal or even wipe away her tears.

Aside from her reddened, splotchy face, she was so grey-looking and her wavy, curly hair was as disheveled as a park underneath a pile of fall leaves.

Mr. Weasley had seen others cry like that, and in every single case, it was a transition from a person with hope to one totally without.

It was how Amos Diggory had cried when he'd lost his son, Cedric, it was how Molly had cried when Bill had been viciously mauled by Fenrir Greyback at the Battle of the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts. It was a kind of crying, Arthur knew, that showed the scared child underneath, that the hurt has cut right back through the protective layers required in maturity and adulthood, and the second that Kingsley laid a gentle hand upon Tonks's shoulder, Tonks mentally snapped.

Without a word to either Mr. Weasley or Kingsley as a half-choked sob of misery escaped her lips, she flung the strap of her purse over her shoulder and stormed out of Dolores Jane Umbridge's office, slamming the door so hard behind her in her wake that the wooden door rattled in its hinges dangerously.

As Arthur and Kingsley silently exited Umbridge's office, sensing the stout witch was done with them both, Arthur felt a pang of guilt and misery prick at his heartstrings as he watched Remus's wife silhouette fade down the corridor.

Tonks was smart enough not to look back.


	12. A Precarious Position

**CHAPTER TWELVE **

Tonks frowned into her glass of half-empty milk, her brows furrowed as she sniffed once or twice to blink back the salty liquid that threatened to escape her lids for what felt like the twelfth time since vacating the Ministry of Magic. She'd gone straight to her desk, which was really more of a cubicle if she was being honest with herself, packed up her belongings in a box, and had given her wand a curt wave, where the box would be waiting for her back home, and she had Disapparated straight to The Leaky Cauldron without telling anyone, not Arthur, not Kingsley, not even sending a Patronus to Remus, where she was going. She needed to digest this further.

She was pregnant and had been _fired_.

And she had no idea what to do about it other than to stay put here in the pub and continue to drink her milk. Normally, this kind of stressful situation would have stressed her out enough to the point where she would have downed maybe two or three glasses of pure straight Fire Whiskey, not caring if the alcohol burned her throat going down. But once she'd told Tom the bartender she was pregnant, the only thing she could have to drink to maintain the health of the baby growing inside her was a glass of cold milk, so she had numbly accepted it, trying to drown her sorrows.

What the bloody hell was she going to _do_?! Umbridge had fired her. Merlin's Beard, this had never happened to her.

She had never been fired before in her life. She _needed_ to work, she and Rem needed the money. They were going to become parents and they could not support themselves and a brand-new baby if the two of them were living on the brink of poverty, and she knew Umbridge's Anti-Werewolf Legislation made it almost virtually impossible for people like her husband and now _her_ , to find and maintain a steady job with a livable income, enough to support a family.

Oh, they were doing just fine on Remus's salary alone, given that Professor Dumbledore, Merlin bless that old wizard, understood the nature of Remus's condition and had, in Tonks's mind, taken pity on her husband following Umbridge's passing of the Anti-Werewolf Legislation Act, which rendered it virtually almost impossible for Remus (and now her, Tonks knew) to get decent jobs, and had begun to pay her husband a modest salary in exchange for his full-time status as an Order member.

Though she doubted that Albus would extend that same courtesy to her if she were to even _consider_ asking, and there was a part of her wounded pride that did not _want_ to admit that she was now struggling, suffering, needing _help_.

Tonks groaned and slumped her head to the table and buried her head in her arms, sliding her now empty glass of cold milk across the bar for a refill.

"Tom," she barked, aware her voice sounded cold and clipped. "Can I get a second glass, please? A really _big_ one?" she begged, blearily lifting her head, and staring at Tom. She swallowed down hard past the growing lump in her throat and blinked back a fresh onset of salty tears that stung and blurred the edges of her vision.

The aging wizard with a back slightly hunched that caused him to stoop over permanently furrowed his thick greying brows into a frown as he obliged.

"You uh, you might want to slow _down_ there, Mrs. Lupin," Tom murmured lowly.

Now it was Tonks's turn to frown as she lifted her head almost slowly, blinking through her haze of tears. "Don't tell me what to _do_ , Tom! It's bloody _milk_ , Tom, not alcohol, it's _not_ going to get me _drunk_ , so just _get_ me a refill when I ask for one. Am I a paying customer here or aren't I?! What d'you think I'm going to do to myself, huh, Tom? Top myself?" she bellowed, curling her hand into a fist, and slamming it down on the bar counter.

Tonks blinked owlishly as she winced, realizing just how loud and upset her voice sounded, and she swore that she felt every head in the bar turn and pivot in her general direction, their piercing gazes branding the back of her skull hotter than any Chinese Fireball dragon could ever flame.

She gulped and slowly swiveled back around on her barstool to try to mind her own business.

"Excuse me, miss," a man's voice, rich, deep, a baritone and the kind of voice a man ought to have, spoke up beside her. Tonks blinked and turned at the waist.

" _What_?" she barked, flinching at how rough and coarse her voice sounded, not at all like her at all, and she quickly became hit with the realization that this must be her new inner She-Wolf's temper manifesting itself in the form of her newfound aggression towards Tom as she thrummed her fingertips on the counter, impatiently waiting for her second glass of milk, really wanting a Fire Whiskey to dull the pain of losing the job that she had genuinely loved, but not able to have any due to the nature of her pregnancy. "What do you _want_ , guy?"

The man was tall, almost as tall as Remus, towering over her as he slid onto the empty barstool next to Tonks, and she immediately stiffened at the unwanted close proximity of this new he-stranger and her. She didn't want company right now, she was _not_ in a good mood as of right now, so this guy better speak fast.

Kind of good-looking, she guessed. Dark hair, a strong face that looked like it had been pistol-whipped or jinxed a time or two, a good jawline and chiseled cheekbones, two-day stubble alongside his chin, bright blue eyes. Definitely not handsome, but rugged, and his voice was rich and deep when he spoke.

"The other patrons in the pub came here for a drink, and they can't _enjoy_ themselves when you're over here causing a scene, miss. Kindly still your rage. If you're going to be unreasonable, then we have a _problem_ ," the man growled.

Tonks felt her hands curl into a tight fist around her cold glass of milk, feeling the condensation beads on the outside of the glass, before lifting the glass to her lips, draining its contents, and slamming the glass down back on the counter hard enough to crack the glass, though, by a miracle of Merlin, it didn't.

"Whatever," she grumbled, dipping into her bag, and pulling out a pouch of coins, where she tossed a Galleon and a Knut to Tom the barkeep for her milk. Huffing in frustration, she stuck her coin pouch back into the main compartment of her black purse and swung her bag over her shoulder, and headed for the ladies' loo of The Leaky Cauldron. The longer she spent her attempting to drown her sorrows like this, the worse she was making things for herself, Tonks realized.

But nor did she particularly relish the idea of going home and telling Remus the truth. That she'd lost her job this evening and didn't know where to go from here, where she would look for a job next if anyone would even _hire_ her once they knew the truth of her lycanthropy, _and_ that she was expecting a baby, too.

Deep in thought over these troubling thoughts, as Tonks looked down as water from the sink dribbled over her fingertips, she clutched onto the edges of the white porcelain sink to steady herself, she slowly lifted her head and gazed into the mirror, and she drew in a breath that hurt.

Tonks froze when she saw herself in the bathroom mirror, her knuckles going white as she clutched onto the sink tightly. She stared at her reflection, or more specifically, her neck. A long, jagged scar snaked down the right side of her neck, the only physical evidence of Remus's attack against her now going on three weeks ago.

It was an unusual looking scar, an odd mixture of bright white and light pink, shocking against her pale skin. The skin around the scar itself was also slightly discolored, suggesting that even now, it still hadn't managed to heal itself properly.

Tonks slowly unclenched one of her hands from the sink and lightly brushed it down the scar, tracing the jagged line slowly with the pads of her shaking fingertips.

She sighed and averted her gaze from the mirror, biting her bottom lip and ducking her head to allow a wavy lock of her hair tumble in front of her face like a curtain. Even though she was mostly healed from her attack, she was still unable to look at her scar for longer than a minute.

She hung her head, shame washing over her in waves as she stood alone in the dimly lit bathroom. Tonks had been so engrossed in getting her bearings, needing a moment to think, to ponder how to tell Rem that she had been fired, that Tonks hadn't been paying attention when another person walked in.

This person was now standing at the sink, speaking to her, and when the individual spoke up behind Tonks, she let out a yelp of fright and whirled around on the heel of her black boot, her lips parted open in shock as she found herself staring face-to-face with the man who'd scolded her for her behavior. She felt her face drain of color.

" **Wh** — _what are you doing in here_?! Can't you _read_ ; this bathroom is for _witches_!" Tonks growled angrily, feeling the corners of her mouth turn down in a pout.

The man from just a few moments ago merely proceeded to smirk at seeing Tonks's cheeks flush pink with color as she took a staggering step back from the sink.

"I must have missed it," the dark-haired man snorted, suddenly standing entirely too close for Tonks's comfort, as she flinched and shirked away. "You seemed a little _put_ _off_ back there, baby doll. I wanted to make sure as a…concerned _friend_ , you were okay."

Friend. _Friend_?! Tonks felt like her mind was reeling. She didn't even _know_ this man. She gulped nervously, though she felt a quiet vibration plaster underneath her skin as the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Tonks glanced to the left and right, no other witches coming into the loo that she could so, and unless she could make a run for it, then there was no telling what this towering he-stranger in front of her wanted with her.

Though judging by the hungered look in his eyes, and the glistening unshed moisture, Tonks had a feeling she could guess, which only intensified her rolling nerves.

Tonks bit the inside wall of her cheek and felt her fingers nervously clutch onto the strap of her black purse for support, the other behind her back, fumbling for her wand in her back pocket of her black jeans. "Th—thanks, buddy, for your… kind words and your concern, but I'm going to be just _fine_." Tonks frowned, pursing her lips into a rigid, narrow line, and shooting the man a glowering look of daggers. "You really should go now before another witch comes in here and sees you and gets the wrong idea, pal…"

"Or the _right_ idea," the man growled, putting his large hands around Tonks's shoulders. She grimaced and shrunk down when she started to feel the man's fingers moving softly over the fabric of her shirt, gingerly rubbing her shoulders. "You're a cutie, doll. I've always had me a thing for witches like you with a pretty face. Good body, too," he murmured appreciatively, giving Tonks's figure a brief once-over, ignoring her look of outrage. What's a pretty witch like you doing in The Leaky Cauldron all by yourself?"

"I—I'm _not_ _alone_ ," Tonks lied through gritted teeth. She curled her left hand into a fist over the strap of her purse and raised it slightly, trying to get this creep to see her left ring finger, at the glint of the yellow gold ring she wore on her finger. "My _husband_ is here with me, he—he just stepped out for a moment, but he'll be right back. You need to _go_!"

The man snorted and narrowed his eyes and a low warning growl escaped from the confines of his burly chest. "You're lying, love. Your husband isn't here with you, doll. I don't _think_ so, sweetheart. You've been alone at the bar the entire time since you first stepped foot inside the tavern. I've been watching you ever since you got here, pretty little thing. Why don't you and I spend a little… _quality_ time together? My name's Max, love."

Just the cold inflections of his voice were enough to send a chill down her back and her stomach to churn. _Oh, my Merlin_ , Tonks thought, feeling the bitter, unpleasant taste of bile creep its way up into her throat and linger on her tongue as she blinked back briny tears. She didn't even have to guess anymore as to what this creep's intentions were. "Look, buddy, if you know what's good for you, you'll get your hands _off_ of me. _Leave_. _Now_."

"No, I don't _think_ so, dollface," the man growled, squeezing her arm tight in a fist. "You came off as pretty _rude_ to me out there when I was trying to save you from being embarrassed. You can't just cut people off like that, sweetheart, don't you know it's _rude_."

She did know as a matter of fact, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of answering him, a fact which angered him, judging by the low warning growl he let out.

As she backed away from him, using the wall as a brace, inching her way towards the door and prepared to summon as much strength in her lungs as she possibly could to belt out the loudest scream she could muster that would seem Tom or any of the other staff here in The Leaky Cauldron running, she felt Max grab out at her arm and shove her down.

" **NO**!" she screamed, swatting away at his groping hands as she shoved against his chest, she was sure, yes, she was sure that she shoved this creep, and hard too, though a fat lot of good it did her. " _Somebody_! _Help me_!" she screamed, tears welling in the corners of her eyes, prompting the man to let go of her shoulder that he'd firmly clamped onto in order to prevent Tonks from escaping and slapped his hand over her mouth in a vice grip.

"You're going to want to go along with this, dollface, trust me on this," he murmured, reaching up a hand and stroking her wavy strands, sending a tremor of fear down Tonks's spine. "I _know_ what you are, sweetheart," he whispered through his teeth.

Tonks shuddered as she felt the pads of his fingertips graze along the skin of her collarbone, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out in pain as one of his hands seized a fistful of her hair and tugged it violently back and off of her shoulders, effectively exposing the mangled, scarred side of her neck.

"You're a She-Wolf, you little _bitch_ , _aren't_ you?" he snarled, though there was something glistening in his unhinged bright blue eyes.

A burning, smoldering, fathomless rage intermingled with a look of lust and rancor, and Tonks was very quick to decide that she did not like it one bit and needed some help.

She was beginning to regret not telling anyone at the Ministry that she had planned to come here. Tonks cursed herself as she knew she could have at least told Mr. Weasley, or Kingsley, Merlin's Beard, even Moody, and old Broody Moody would have understood.

_Or sent a Patronus home to Remus_ , she thought, and then she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling like a fool for only just remembering Professor Dumbledore had assigned him with Sirius to overnight Guard duty, and he would not even be home until tomorrow.

"Don't worry, doll, I'll _keep_ your dirty little _secret_. For a _price_. I've never had _fun_ with a Wolf before," the man taunted, the edges of his lips curling upwards into a smirk.

The corners of his mouth twitched into his cheek as he allowed the pads of his fingertips to just gently graze the delicate flesh around her scars, light enough that he was not actually pressing down on the wound site, just enough to enforce his message to her.

The left side of Max's face tugged upwards, creating a sinister smirk on what Tonks guessed if he were kinder would have been a god-like face, and if she were younger and not married, the guy's good looks might have once made her weak in the knees, though her heart would always belong to Remus, though this guy didn't _care_ that she was married.

In the guy's arrogant triumph, he continued smirking—just a small pouting of the lips, a narrowing of those brilliant blue eyes, and a slight cocking of his head to the right. It was so subtle, for poor Tonks, it was almost infuriating for her to watch, as her stomach churned and rolled, twisting like coils in her gut as she swore she tasted vomit.

Tonks let out a muffled whine that sounded more akin to the noise a wounded dog would make after it had been kicked by its master as the man gripped onto both of her shoulders firmly with his hands and violently shoved her, so she was kneeling on her knees on the disgusting bathroom floor in front of the man, who towered over her as he lurked.

"How about _this_ , little dove?" the man called Max suggested with a frustrated exhale as he continued to hover over Tonks, all the while maintaining his firm grip on her shoulder. Tonks slowly opened her eyes and tried to focus her tear-filled gaze at the guy. "I'm getting real sick of your pretentious attitude, you little bitch. Don't you get it, doll? How the rest of us sees _monsters_ like _you_? Though, you're _lucky_ you're a pretty one," he sighed, almost sounding disappointed as he shook his head.

Tonks opened her mouth to speak, though nothing was coming out.

"If it were up to me, your kind would be hunted _down_ for sport like the dogs that you are. Maybe…if you're _really_ good, sweetheart, I'll even take you home. Hell, I'll buy you a pretty pink collar and you can be my little _bitch_." Max's lips twisted upward in a vicious sneer as he looked down his slender, slightly crooked nose at her.

Tonks whimpered and shook her head vehemently no, back and forth, even when Max tightened her grip over her mouth, crushing the back of her head painfully against the weight of his firm hand, one over her mouth, and the other holding fistfuls of her hair. She moved her hand up towards her face to try to pry Max's hand off her, to plead her case.

But she couldn't get the wizard to move his hand. "Ngh…" she growled, clawing pitifully at his hand with both of hers in a vain effort to get him off of her, but no such luck.

" _Stop_. _Fighting_." The command escaped Max's lips as a low growl as he dragged her closer towards him, starting to fumble with his belt to remove it with all too-eager fingers. "I'm gonna snap your wrist if you try anything, dog," he warned threateningly. "And remember, babe, if you think about going savage and letting your inner Wolf out and try to scream or howl or bite me or whatever you sick _animals_ do for attention, this is going to get a whole lot worse for you, little dove, I can promise you that. I'm not gonna hurt you, witch, unless you make me. I never want to hurt you. I hope you know that, sweetheart."

Threats or no threats, Tonks knew she could _not_ let herself be humiliated like this, and the moment she felt the man's strong arm grip onto her shoulder, tugging her upward slightly to better position her so that she was closer, she began fighting against his firm grip. " _Let go of me_!" she cried out, squirming as hard as she could in Max's grip in order to break free and make a run for it. She was scared of what this man might do to her, simply because he had somehow managed to figure out in the short time she'd been here in The Leaky Cauldron, that she was a werewolf, but _how_?! Tonks thought she had been careful.

She took great pains in wearing her hair loose these days to cover the scars on her neck that were still healing, and she wasn't about to go wearing short dresses anytime soon until the scratch markings and various cuts and bruises on both of her legs healed up, then.

Even when Tonks felt Max continued to clutch tightly onto her shoulder, leaving what Tonks could already tell were going to be painful bruises with his hands, Tonks continued to try to get up off of this disgusting bathroom floor riddled with awful germs.

It wasn't until the guy balled his strong, hairy hand into a fist and hefted back his arm and slammed it against her ribcage that Tonks's adrenaline rush left her immediately. Tonks groaned and coughed as she doubled over on the floor in pain as fiery swells shot up and down her back, squeezing her eyes tightly closed, unable to focus on anything but the pain from the harsh blow to her ribcage she had just been dealt by this awful _creep_.

She knew she needed to scream for help, for Tom, the maid that worked here, someone, to come in and help her before this guy could finish what he was trying to start. But the only thing Tonks could manage to do was choke out a pained wince and draw in sharp breaths of air that hurt her bruising ribcages as she was violently wrenched to her knees by Max for a second time, unable to focus on anything but the burning pain. Pain seared through her abdomen better than a branding iron, Tonks's mind conceding to the torment, unable to bring a thought to completion. Without meaning to she felt it as her body curled into something fetal, something primeval, and all the while the pain burns and radiates. The pain wasn't sharp like needlepoint or a knife, it burned around Tonks's innards better than boiling water. Everything feels scolded and, move or not, and she couldn't, she knew she in more pain than she could have imagined was possible. She whined as she heard Max's low, grating voice.

"Stop moving, you little _bitch_ …" Max grabbed onto a fistful of her hair and tugged it painfully back, exposing the pale column of her throat. Tonks whimpered and shrunk down, trying her hardest to force herself to remain calm, even though her Auror training was kicking in and telling her body to fight, this was her fight-or-flight mode kicking in and she wanted to fight like hell against his gross, horrible mistreatment, though she knew Max outweighed her by a ton at least.

He was way too strong for her to overpower physically and considering he was clutching firmly onto both of her shoulders in an ironclad grip, she had no means to get at her wand in the back pocket of her pants. Tonks bit down on her tongue, fighting back tears. She breathed in and out exhausted, shaking, pained breaths as she tried to force herself to kneel upright so that this _creep_ didn't tug on her hair any more than the guy already _was_.

If she wanted to get out of this unharmed, her best bet, like it or not, was to just go along with whatever Max wanted, and then maybe he'd get out of here and leave her alone. Tonks violently shook, her body wracked with silent sobs as her nervous, skittish gaze flitted towards the closed bathroom door of the witches' restroom.

There didn't seem to be anyone coming in to use the loo, and she highly doubted anyone had seen this guy follow her in here, considering everyone was always so engrossed in their own conversations. She flinched as the wizard raised his wand and pointed it at the old oak door.

" _Muffliato_!" he murmured in a low voice, and Tonks felt her stomach flip and churn. _Great_ , Tonks thought despairingly, wanting to almost break down and weep. No one was going to hear her now if she screamed for someone to help her. Screaming in this case was going to do her no good at all and would probably only result in this guy hurting her worse if she tried to put up more of a fight. Tonks was bloody _lost_.

But Merlin's Beard, she didn't know what to _do_! As she was forced to kneel on her knees on the linoleum floor of the lavatory in front of Max, with his crushing hands bruising her arms and the man's threats of what he wanted to do to werewolves lingering in her eardrums and in her hazy mind, it suddenly hit her square in the chest, as though she had been hit by a Knockback Jinx, that there was no way out of this little precarious position…

Not until Max was done with her. She was going to have suffer through whatever the wizard wanted of her, but hopefully, he'd let her go after all of this.

Her body felt frozen, rooted to the spot, and her lungs heaving and gasping for air, and she tasted bile on her tongue and she clamped her mouth shut, thinking that if she tried to open her mouth and plead with this man to let her go, she'd vomit all over his precious shoes, and then he'd really be royally ticked.

Tonks's body still convulsed, shaking violently at what was inevitably about to happen to her, as she heard the man's belt buckle begin to loosen.

A horrible numbness began to spread throughout her entire body, and Tonks felt the edges of her vision begin to blur, black dots swarming her line of sight, and she felt as though she might actually pass out at any given moment.

She wasn't sure if she had ever felt more terrified in her entire life than at this moment. The night of her attack paled in comparison to what was about to happen to her. Tonks let out a whine and a pained, frightened sob as she clenched her eyes tightly shut and ground her molars in nervous anticipation of what was to come. If Max weren't already holding onto her arms in a vice grip, she would have bloody well passed out long ago. She felt so bloody useless and defeated.

Tonks knew she should have told someone where she was going or asked Arthur or Kingsley to come with her as a designated sober companion, to take her home via Side-Along Apparition if things got a little too out of control here.

But _no_. She'd cared so much about masking her feelings, about not letting Arthur or Kingsley or any of her other coworkers or fellow Order members seeing her cry over the fact that Umbridge had fired her from her job, the second best thing she loved in this world aside from her loving, doting husband. Oh, _no_ …

She'd cared entirely too much about wanting to be left alone and _now_ look.

Well. That was certainly coming back to bite her now, wasn't it?


	13. To Trust Me

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Norah furrowed her brows into a light frown as she stared after the door that Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin had just disappeared behind, the witch's lavatory in the pub.

She had gotten the Patronus delivered to her at her home little less than ten minutes ago by that red-haired chap that she had met two weeks ago when she had met Mrs. Lupin in St. Mungo's, practically begging the young blonde werewolf to go after her.

The young witch had lost her job at the Ministry, Mr. Weasley had hastily explained in his message to Norah, and he had recollected meeting Norah back in St. Mungo's and helped diffused the Chocolate Frog incident between Norah and the welcome witch that manned the front receptionist desk to check-in visitors, and knowing the nature of her condition as told to him by Remus, thought she could keep an eye on the young woman and Order member, make sure she didn't do anything too rash.

Arthur had managed to find a record of her home address in official Ministry records, a fact which unnerved Norah to no end, knowing the Ministry kept tabs on her.

Norah Jameson's frown deepened as she stared at the door to the restroom, thinking Tonks had been in there an awfully long time. At first, she had chalked it up to maybe she just wanted someplace where she could allow herself to feel the pain in peace.

Or her pregnancy was acting up and she was getting sick or something, so Norah hadn't thought much of it and had taken the small round wooden table in the darkest corners of The Leaky Cauldron, remaining shrouded in the shadows until she wanted to make her presence known to Mrs. Lupin that that red-haired husband of the dumpy woman with the equally red hair, had asked of Norah to keep an eye on Tonks tonight.

Norah could not quite explain it, this sudden stab of fear that pricked at her heartstrings, that damned stubborn corded muscle that lay within the confines of her chest, but she was worried about Remus Lupin's wife. No matter how much she wanted to act like she didn't bloody care about the brand-new She-Wolf and now former Auror, she knew she couldn't honestly bring herself _not_ to care about the vibrant young witch.

Remus and Tonks-Lupin were, like it or not, her best chance at getting her son and husband back alive and out of Fenrir Greyback's clutches, given how Lupin knew how her Alpha operated, having gone undercover not that long ago from what she remembered. She had remembered seeing the man throughout the encampments back then, six or so months ago, if her memory served her correctly, though she had not gotten a chance to talk to him, though she remembered desperately wanting to, to do so was not their way, and if she had, she would have risked Greyback finding out that she wanted to leave.

And now, he _had_ found out, and she was forced to go on the run like some fugitive, when she had broken none of Alpha's laws, except for daring to speak out against Fenrir.

Norah scowled, biting the wall of her cheek as she stared at the restroom door to the witch's lavatory, feeling somehow uneasy, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Though she did not know Mrs. Lupin as well as she would have liked, Norah could not help but feel worried for the younger witch.

She had _no idea_ of the true precariousness as to the nature of her new condition, the stigma that came attached to their lycanthropy.

How the rest of the wizarding world saw creatures like them, treating them like monsters like they were nothing worse than dirt at the bottom of their shoes that they couldn't quite scrape off or manage to stamp out. How they could barely look you in the eyes once they found out the truth, if they found out at all, but it was why Norah had preferred all of her life up until meeting Wes at Hogwarts, that he was like her too, a Wolf, to keep people safe at arm's length, so that they never learned what Norah _really_ was.

Her husband had always tried to convince her otherwise. That she was simply a strong, sensitive caring young witch who happened to be more comfortable in the company of other Wolves like them, beings who could truly understand what it was like.

_She's been in there an awfully long time_ , Norah thought, knitting her brows together as she glanced up at the clock which hung above the mantle. _Fifteen minutes…_

Could she be suffering from morning sickness? It was especially brutal for werewolves and tended to last well into the second and third trimester of pregnancies.

Norah frowned when she considered this, glancing down into her half-empty tankard of Butterbeer. Tonks's body was still undergoing several changes following the aftermath of her Turning, and she was probably scared, confused, and hurt, and if what Arthur Weasley had told her over his Patronus to her held any semblance of truth, the young witch was prideful and was not so quick to admit whenever she needed some help.

The young blonde werewolf let out a sigh and raked her tongue along the top wall of her teeth, wondering where that good-looking guy had gotten off to. She'd seen the guy trying (and failing miserably) to flirt up a storm with Remus Lupin's wife, seemingly not caring that she was taken, a married woman, though the dark-haired man had disappeared. She shrugged her shoulders, though her frown deepened. _Maybe he left…?_

Norah could only hope that the dark-haired stranger had taken the hint in that Tonks was not interested in him, and never would be, considering she already had a mate.

Sighing haggardly, she looked away from the clock on the mantle and then the witch's restroom door and back down at her drink, swirling the tankard so the ice was clinking in her glass, tracing the beads of condensation that had started to gather on the outside.

Tonks could bloody take care of herself. She was an Auror— _ex-Auror_ , her mind unhelpfully piped up and knew how to handle her own. Tonks knew what she was doing.

Mr. Lupin's wife did not need yet _another_ person in her life fretting over the new She-Wolf in her physical condition, and Norah knew she did not need to burden herself further by weighing her mind down by thinking what she was doing so long in the loo.

It didn't matter. She could be getting sick or having a crying spell over losing her job. Tonks was living her life, and it had bloody nothing to do with Norah quite just yet.

_Though they promised they would help me find my son_ , Norah thought, biting the wall of her cheek as she couldn't help herself as she looked towards the loo a third time.

_She should have come out by now and made to go home_ , Norah thought, troubled. She knew it was a bloody bad idea, one she would probably live to regret by getting involved in Tonks's life, but she had already promised Remus Lupin she would behave as a friend towards his wife for the duration of her pregnancy in exchange for Lupin's aid.

Norah could not just continue to sit here sulking in the corner like this and nursing her drink while wondering if Nymphadora-Tonks Lupin was okay, or if she was injured.

She could pop in the restroom just for a second, make sure she wasn't puking her guts out or anything like that, didn't need to go to an apothecary here in Diagon Alley or back to St. Mungo's for treatment, and then, once she was sure she was all right, Norah would go back inside The Leaky Cauldron and resume her bad habit of drinking herself into a stupor as she tried to drown out the horrible visions of her son and husband suffering at the hands of her Alpha, while she pondered just how she was going to get them both back alive and unharmed, hoping that Remus would have some suggestions.

_Just to make sure nothing unsavory is happening. You'd do it for anyone else…_

Norah groaned, repressing the urge to roll her eyes as she slung her purse over her shoulder and dug into her pocket for a couple of Galleons to pay Tom for her butterbeer.

The young blonde She-Wolf rose from her table in the corner and made her way towards the witch's lavatory. As soon as she shoved open the door, what was within her wretched, wolfish sight, Norah felt her mouth slacken and drop open in utter horror.

Sure enough, the handsome chap from earlier was in here with Remus Lupin's wife, as was she, and Tonks had been forced into a kneeling position on her knees in front of the tall wizard. Tonks's head was turned sharply to the right, her eyes squeezed shut.

Poor Tonks looked like she was on the verge of passing out and probably would have collapsed if the man's strong hands weren't maintaining a vice grip on both her shoulders, firmly keeping the young witch in place, and preventing her from escaping.

The guy was in the process of fumbling with his belt buckle, attempting to undo it.

" _Hey_!" Norah growled, the edges of her gums lifting upward as she revealed her unnaturally sharp canines as she rushed into the bathroom, her hand plunging into the interior pocket of her black leather jacket, fingers curling around her wand's handle.

The young blonde woman knew it wasn't necessarily the greatest idea to jump into this and attempt to fight the guy off right here in the witch's lavatory when she could risk hitting Tonks and doing possibly irreparable harm to either Tonks or the little wolf cub.

The stranger was definitely taller and stockier than she was and outweighed both her and Tonks by several pounds, and this could easily backfire and land her in St. Mungo's, but just the pitiful sight of seeing Remus Lupin's wife on the ground, forced to kneel on her knees on this disgusting bathroom floor, trembling, crying, she could not bear to waste any time to think this thing through, and Norah pointed her wand at him.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're _doing_?" she growled, bearing her canines and moving to close off the gap of space, effectively planting her feet in between the two of them, preventing the man from taking another step closer, as she pointed her wand squarely in the center of the man's burly chest. "Back _away_ from the woman. _Now_."

Tonks inhaled a pained and sharp breath, feeling her ears perk up at the sound of Norah Jameson's German accent, that blonde She-Wolf from two weeks ago who'd visited her in St. Mungo's and had promised to pay her a visit when Tonks was better recovered.

Slowly swiveling her head in Norah's direction, Tonks whimpered a soft cry that Norah could only describe as the sound a wounded pup would make when its master kicked it and seemed to be trying to stand up and get her bearings back as Norah let out a growl the second the dark-haired wizard gripped onto Remus Lupin's wife's arms, pulling her back rather roughly as he took a half step back, causing her to let out a groan.

"Do you mind, _bitch_?" the man standing behind Tonks groaned as he cupped her chin forcefully in his strong, calloused hand, and forcefully turned her back around so that she was resuming her kneeling position on the floor in front of him. "You're kinda interrupting a _private_ moment here, lady, so why don't you beat it?" he growled savagely.

Tonks let out a muffled whine as a look of terror and desperation flashed through her eyes as she managed to swat the guy's hand away from her face, staring at Norah.

The younger witch didn't say a word, but it was clear to Norah Jameson that Tonks was in distress as she winced, coughing and gasping for air, inhaling and exhaling frantic, shaking breaths, and was failing to hold back salty tears as they slid down her face quickly.

"Get off of her! Get out of here right now, before you really start to piss me off, man," Norah snarled, stepping closer, and allowing the shadow of the She-Wolf she knew herself to be cross her features, and she was rewarded for her actions as the man blanched.

She raised her wand at the man's chest and had been fully prepared to blow this man into oblivion with a well-deserved Cruciatus Curse or a Bat-Bogey Hex at the least, though fortunately for her, the guy from the bar did not seem to want to pick a fight.

No doubt he had seen the shadow of the She-Wolf flit across Norah's pale features, and he promptly let go of Tonks's arms, mumbling something under his breath, and shoving Lupin's wife violently forward before he turned his back on the pair of witches. Norah let out a wolfish, animalistic snarl and bared her teeth at the now-closed bathroom door, momentarily tempted to run after him and make sure that creep never laid so much as another finger on an innocent young witch again, but more than that, she needed to check on Tonks, make sure Lupin's wife was not injured in any way or form.

Letting out a shaking breath through her flared nostrils, Norah turned on the heel of her black boot and knelt down next to Tonks, who had let herself fall onto the cold bathroom floor so that she was now slumped forward and resting on the heels of her feet.

Though the moment didn't last long as the second that Norah reached out a somewhat shaking hand and laid a gentle hand on Tonks's shoulder, the woman jumped.

Tonks scrambled backward until she flung herself into the nearest stall and vomited into the toilet, slamming the door behind her. Nausea at what had almost happened to her just now clawed at her throat, and she tried to force down the bile, but it was too late, and her stomach contracted so violently that she barely made it to the toilet.

She sank to her knees and heaved, retching until only clear liquid was coming up. Her throat felt sore from the stomach acid that was layering it and her mouth tasted of vomit. There was no-one to fetch her a glass of water or offer to clean up the mess. The stomach-acid stench of vomit filled her nostrils. Tonks surveyed the mess in the toilet bowl with watery, red-rimmed eyes full of fresh tears, and her stomach dry-heaved again.

"Tonks? Tonks? Are you okay?" Norah Jameson's German accent reached her eardrums, causing Tonks to jerk her head up from where it was bent over the toilet bowl.

An acid-sweet stench invaded her nostrils, bringing back the waves of nausea. Tonks gulped and spat out a last, bitter stream of bile as Norah spoke to her yet again.

"Tonks?" A light rapping of knuckles at the bathroom door and Norah Jameson's voice came again, more urgent this time, and sounding desperate. "Talk to me. You good?"

Tonks groaned, sighing, and stood, her legs numb and shaking with the effort. "I—I'm good, Norah." Her voice was hoarse, and her vision blurry as fresh tears filled her line of sight. Tonks flushed the toilet and stumbled out of the cubicle, falling against a nearby sink.

It took a few tries for Tonks's trembling hands to manage to turn on the bloody faucet, and when it did, the damned water came splashing out too hard, splashing her face and the scars on her neck, causing the young witch to reel backward, grasping clumsily at the handle, turning the water down to a respectable manner and began to wash the bitter taste of vomit from her mouth, waving her wand and conjuring up a toothbrush.

Norah sighed as she watched the young woman brush her teeth with more force than was really necessary, contemplating her next move on how exactly to address this.

She did not seem to _want_ her help, but nor could Norah just bring herself to walk away from what had almost happened to Remus Lupin's wife here in The Leaky Cauldron.

With a sigh, Tonks pressed her head against the mirror of the bathroom, hoping its cold surface against the burning hot skin of her forehead would quell the dull aching.

She wished Remus were here with her, all of a sudden. Her husband would know what to say to her in order to make her feel better, and would not have allowed that creep, Max, to almost assault her as he had almost gotten away with, had it not been for Norah.

Norah sighed as Tonks turned off the faucet and wiped her hands with a paper towel, exhaling shaking breaths through her nose, her shoulders heaving with silent sobs.

The young blonde watched as Tonks made a show of shifting the strap of her black purse from one arm to the other and slowly lifted her head to regard Norah Jameson.

Her sobs were now dissolving into occasional sharp breaths and sniffling, and she had moved her hands away from her face, lowering them into shaking fists at her sides.

Though as quickly as her light grey eyes met Norah's bright blue eyes, burning bright with a fathomless, smoldering rage at what that creep had almost done to Tonks, Tonks felt her face flush hotly in shame and she ducked her head in order to look away.

Tonks just stared down at the tips of her black boots and the bathroom floor, as she wrapped her arms around her middle and shivered as a violent shaking spell consumed her.

"Are you okay, Tonks?" Norah asked again now that Remus's wife seemed like she might actually understand what was being said to her now that the worst of her shock looked as though it had worn off. She'd not been in the bathroom too long, but it had been more than enough time for that monster to do unspeakable things to the young witch, and Tonks was certainly behaving as though she had been traumatized. "Did he hurt you? Do I need to take you to the apothecary here, or even to St. Mungo's, Tonks?" she questioned.

Tonks bit down hard on her bottom lip, hesitated for a fraction of a second in indecision as she slowly shook her head, as if in slow motion, but she still wouldn't look at Norah. "N—no," she whispered. "I'm fine. Thank you for coming when you did, Norah," Tonks heard herself whispering in a trembling voice that sounded incredibly meek.

"Do I need to send a Patronus to the Auror Department and report this? It's a _crime_ , it _needs_ to be reported. That man discriminated against you because of your—"

Though Tonks, upon seeing Norah slowly raise her wand, fully intent on sending a Patronus to Arthur Weasley to report what had happened, assuming he was still on duty, she shot out an arm and gingerly lowered Norah's arm and shot her a darkened glower.

" _No_!" Tonks begged, a desperate, pleading tone laced through her somewhat shy and reserved voice, and Norah could see just how much this incident had shaken Tonks.

The younger witch had unshed tears brimming at the corners of her red-rimmed eyes, and her lower lip was trembling as she struggled to maintain her emotional composure, but she was clearly trying to remain hardened and stoic in front of Norah.

"N—no Aurors. I _told_ you I'm _fine_ ," she growled, and she seemed startled at perhaps hearing the She-Wolf within her emerge for the very first time as she blinked owlishly at Norah in shock, her gray eyes widened and a hand clamped over her mouth.

Norah frowned. She probably didn't want to talk to the Aurors considering she had just lost her job in that exact same department and Tonks didn't want any of her coworkers to know what had happened, as she imagined it was like rubbing salt into the already tender wound that was her broken heart, or maybe she figured her coworkers wouldn't take her seriously when she told them the truth about the nature of her condition.

"They'll listen to you, Mrs. Lupin," Norah urged kindly, reaching out a cautious hand and gingerly setting it on her shoulder as she carefully guided Tonks out of the women's lavatory and out towards the crisp fresh air of Diagon Alley. "I'll make sure they do. It doesn't matter that you're a werewolf now. What that man tried to do to you isn't bloody okay, Tonks. It's a crime. It needs to be reported. The Aurors are obligated to deal with it if you file charges against that creep and file an official complaint. I can call them."

But Tonks continued to shake her head no. " _No_." Tonks vehemently shook her head again in protest. "N—nothing happened, Norah. I—I'm okay, n—not that it's any concern of _yours_ ," she spat, shrugging her shoulder off of Norah's hand and turning to regard the young blonde werewolf as she slung the strap of her black purse over her shoulder, fixing Norah Jameson with a suspicious stare as she raised her brows at her.

Norah sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "No concern of mine, huh? Nothing happened? That was why I found you on the ground of the witches' restroom of The Leaky Cauldron?" Norah growled, a harsh bark to her voice.

Tonks merely stared back at Norah and furrowed her brows into a slight frown.

Norah bit the inside wall of her cheek and continued. Lupin's wife might not like hearing this, but she bloody needed to. "If that man _hurt_ you, you _need_ to let me take you to St. Mungo's and tell an Auror what happened. Let the Ministry press charges against him. Though you're a werewolf now, not everyone treats our kind like… like _that_ ," she growled, and even Norah was surprised at herself as she heard herself like out a vicious snarl. "I'll go with you if you want. You don't have to go by yourself. We can tell your husband what happened. He'll _understand_ , Nymphadora, he's been through this _before_."

Tonks stared at Norah with tears brimming in her eyes, and for a brief moment, actually seemed to be contemplating her offer. Norah sighed, able to see in her eyes that something in the younger witch's mind was at the very least, convincing her to pull away from her new friend who had saved her skin from being horribly assaulted in the lavatory just now, and Norah knew she was going to say no a few seconds before she actually did.

"No, Norah." Tonks shook her head and shakily shrugged out of Norah's grasp. "He—he didn't do anything to me. I—I'm fine. Just—just leave me alone." She shrugged away from the young blonde woman and turned her back on her fellow werewolf. "I—I appreciate you coming and checking on me when you did. He—he barely did anything to me, a—and it shouldn't matter to you anyway. I—I need to go home. _Please_. Excuse me."

"Tonks, wait!" Norah shot out an arm and latched onto her upper-arm, gently pulling her back before the younger witch could turn on the heel of her boot and Disapparate. "Don't go…"

Tonks allowed for Norah to pull her back, but stared up at her with sadness, antagonizing hurt, and anger, and what almost looked like unbridled fear in her eyes.

Norah wasn't exactly sure how this little confrontation was going to end, and what she saw in the young newly Turned She-Wolf's eyes was a potent combination of vulnerability, anxiousness, fear, and uncertainty at what her future held for her now.

She didn't usually let herself care about another human being this much, at least not ones that weren't her husband or her son, Jax, but seeing Tonks like this was unsettling. Norah could not explain it, but she knew she liked Remus Lupin's wife.

Hopefully in time would consider her to be something like a friend. This strange feeling made Norah not want to allow Tonks to leave and go back to her home in Wales.

It made Norah feel almost protective of the young witch, who was undoubtedly shaken at what she had almost had happened to her in the witch's lavatory just now, which was a strange feeling, considering most of the time she was so concerned on protecting herself and her husband son from other witches and wizards who'd discriminate against them all, or more specifically, her and Wes.

Though as they stood outside The Leaky Cauldron, each one just staring at the other, Norah wondered what exactly she wanted to ask Tonks. She could not make her go to the Aurors and report this if she didn't want to.

She couldn't. Tonks was claiming the man in the restroom hadn't hurt her, and it seemed to Norah like Tonks just wanted to put what had happened completely behind her and go home. She had so far declined all of her offers to take her to St. Mungo's for a medical examination or to the Ministry to report the crime to her former department.

_What do I want, then_? Norah thought, furrowing her blonde brows into a frown. There was nothing else that Norah could do for her at this point. She'd made sure that the wizard had not hurt Remus's wife any more than he already had. Her part in this was done.

But then, why was it so hard for her to just let Tonks go home alone after all this? Norah knew she did not want her to have to go home alone to an empty cottage since her husband was away on Order duty, according to Mr. Weasley when he'd left her the Patronus message. Tonks was still very clearly upset, and in a different way than last time.

Norah huffed in minor frustration and agitation with the young witch. "What I just witnessed was in no way okay, Tonks, and you don't bloody need to pretend that it was. That wizard, that blind, bloody fool was _hurting_ you, harming you, and I don't care _what_ you say did or didn't happen! I just want you to take care of yourself. I'd like to…I'd like to help you through this, Tonks, this is a difficult time of transition for you, Mrs. Lupin. I…I don't have a lot of friends, there aren't many people in this world that I can trust, once they find out what we are, they don't look at me the same way again," she grumbled, raking her hands through her short blonde hair. "But…you look at me and you don't see this," Norah growled wolfishly, pointing a shaking hand the scars on her face and near the front of her collarbones. "Or these…you see only me, Norah Jameson, just as I look at your husband and you and see only Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin. Let me _help_ you. Let me be your _friend_ , Tonks."

Tonks frowned, though Norah heard the young witch let out a reluctant little sigh and mutely nodded her head, dipping her head in acknowledgment of Norah's words.

"I—I'd like that," she whispered, biting down hard on her bottom lip. "More…more than anything. There are—there are so few here that I can trust now that I'm…like _this_ …"

She lifted a hand and shakily gestured towards the still-healing scars on her neck, and it did not escape Norah's attention just how defeated and upset the young witch was.

Poor Tonks was looking entirely _devastated_ , and Norah knew she could not leave her new friend and fellow Wolf out here alone in Diagon Alley after dark, where there could be more unsavory wizards or witches lurking in the shadows, itching for fresh meat.

"Tonks, I honestly _don't_ want anything from you other than to make sure you get home safe. Your—your friend, the red-haired bloke, Weasley, asked me to come to make sure you were all right. I—I heard that you lost your job today," Norah murmured quietly.

Tonks nodded, though she offered no verbal response, merely blinking at Norah.

Norah sighed and continued. "Here." She shrugged out of her black leather jacket and handed it to Tonks. "Put that on. You can keep it; I've got two more like it at home. You're bloody freezing."

Tonks frowned, biting down on her bottom lip as she faltered in a decision, though at last, her shoulders slumped in defeat as she numbly accepted the garment, shrugging into the jacket and pulling it tighter around herself for warmth.

"I—I don't want anything from you either, Norah. I just want to go home and forget tonight ever happened. That's _all_. Nothing more, nothing less…" The younger witch frowned as her bottom lip trembled and she took a moment to shift her purse to her other arm to ease the ache in her shoulder.

It was unsettling for Norah and heartbreaking to watch the newly-turned werewolf feeling so down on her luck and utterly defeated. She had lost a job that she adored and had become dangerously close to becoming assaulted on the bathroom floor of The Leaky Cauldron.

If that didn't count for a crap day in Norah's book, she didn't know _what_ did.

Norah hesitated, chewing on the inside wall of her cheek as she weighed her options, though at last, decided to speak up. "Look, Mrs. Lupin. Don't take this the wrong way," she began hesitantly. "And again, I don't want anything from you other than your friendship, and your and your husband's help in finding my husband and son, but…there are no strings attached to what I am about to offer you. But I could come back with you, just to make sure you get home okay. I don't fancy another visit from that creep you met earlier, but now that that was your first taste of what it's like for wolves like us, especially females, I don't want you to go through something like that again if I can help it, Tonks. I don't think you should be alone right now, and I don't think you're okay to Disapparate on your own. You're clearly upset and not thinking straight, and I don't want you trying to do this in a haze and wind up so far off from your destination that you Splinch yourself."

Tonks flinched at the mention of the possibility of Splinching herself, and Norah could not help but feel a bit slighted as the younger witch held a skeptical expression on her ashen features as she glowered across the way at Norah with narrowed light gray eyes.

Norah sighed and continued, sensing that Tonks was not convincing and needed some more coaxing. " _Look_. I just want to know that you're going to be all right," Norah told Tonks with a frown. "Just let me take you home. Side-Along Apparition. Nothing else. I _promise_. Just to get you to the front door of your house and I'll go. I won't tell your husband what happened to her tonight if you really don't want me to," Norah said, pained.

She couldn't stand to leave Mrs. Lupin on her own. As much as Norah wanted to believe that she didn't give a damn about the young She-Wolf, she knew that wasn't true.

Norah did not want her new friend to face any other kind of danger or pain, though the harsh reality of their current situation was that, in time, Tonks would become used to this kind of treatment over the long run and perhaps even desensitized by the prejudice.

The thought of her trying to Apparate home _alone_ , probably crying along the way and becoming distracted so that she missed her destination completely and would wind up in Merlin only knew what part of the bloody country, injured or not, made Norah feel terrible, and it was this thought that propelled her forward and held out her hand.

"Okay," Tonks finally agreed in a low voice that was so faint, it was barely a whisper. Norah nodded; honestly, relieved Lupin's wife was finally accepting her support.

Norah just wished it hadn't taken a tragedy of this magnitude to get her to see sense. She drew in a sharp breath of cold night air as Tonks tightly gripped onto her arm.

Even though she ordinarily preferred to keep other people at arm's length, a relatively safe distance away from her and her family, Norah knew she simply couldn't bring herself to let her try to get home alone on her own right now. Not in her current state. Tonks needed a woman by her side to help her with this, and as far as she could tell, aside from the ginger bloke's wife, Mrs. Weasley, Tonks had no one else in her life to help.

As the pair of witches collectively turned on the heels of their boots to Disapparate back to Tonks and Lupin's cottage in Wales, Norah could only hope that by saving Tonks's life and befriending her, that she wasn't making the biggest bloody mistake of her life…


	14. A Difficult Conversation

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Frowning, Tonks stared at the lighted cottage of her and Remus's home, with her new friend and fellow She-Wolf, Norah, by her side. Though ordinarily she would have been excited at the prospect of allowing a new friend entrance into her and her husband's simple home, to offer Norah a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits or cookies, somehow, she couldn't manage to pretend to care, much less feel anything positive right now after _that_.

Remus was home, which meant that _someone_ —probably Arthur or Kingsley if she had to hazard a guess—had managed to send word to her husband either via Patronus or owl post of what had happened to his wife today, which had led the man to skip night duty.

The pair of witches slowly made their way up to the door. Tonks bit her bottom lip and looked over her shoulder at Norah as she dipped into the main compartment of her purse for the keys. Normally, she would have just used her wand to open the door, but she lacked the strength tonight to summon the energy reserves within herself to use her magic, so the old-fashioned Muggle way of jiggling the keys in the locks was going to have to suffice.

"Looks like Remus is home. You—you don't have to _stay_ , Norah, you can go home," she told her, hoping that she sounded polite enough. She didn't really feel like talking. All she wanted was to rest. They had Bill and Fleur's wedding to attend in a few days, and in a few more weeks, her first cycle as a fully-fledged werewolf would be upon her, and just that thought was enough to plaster a quiet vibration under her skin and make it crawl.

Tonks could not remember the last time she felt so bloody utterly defeated and could not bring herself to care about the possibility of having to entertain a new guest tonight.

Norah bit the inside wall of her cheek, raking her tongue along the top row of her teeth, still reluctant to leave her alone, at least not until she knew for sure that Mr. Lupin wasn't going to overreact to what had happened to his pregnant wife tonight. "I could come in just for a moment to explain to your husband what happened," Norah offered. "If…if you want," she added, immediately trying to correct herself after a hesitant pause.

Though Tonks offered the young blonde werewolf a soft smile, Norah wasn't fooled. She could see the hint of tears stinging at her eyes. She wished she were a Legilimens and could know with just a quick dip into Mrs. Lupin's mind exactly what Tonks was thinking.

Tonks could not quite explain it, but suddenly, she _did_ want Norah to come in with her, just for a moment, if only to let Remus know that she had not been entirely alone throughout the traumatizing ordeal of what had happened to her in The Leaky Cauldron.

She doubted having Norah present would tamper down the worst of Remus's fears at the stigma that he had unleashed on her following the aftermath of the attack, or what his reaction would be to the fact that Umbridge had fired her this afternoon, though she hoped that Remus would just _listen_ , and in time, offer advice on what she should do, then.

Tonks nodded and blinked back a fresh wave of tears, swallowing down hard past the growing lump in her throat as she motioned for Norah with a wave of her arm to follow.

However, before she'd barely made it off the front step of their cottage's little porch, the door flung open, and there stood her husband, looking much paler than she had ever seen him before, his face pulled tight and taut with worry for her, his scars more pronounced, the pink jagged lines of the scars alongside his face more grotesque and shocking in the dim light that cast a faint glow from the tip of his wand as he held it out.

"Dora," he breathed, not even waiting as he rushed towards his wife, engulfing her trembling frame in a tight, rib-crushing hug, ignored her muffled squeak of surprise. "You're all right," he murmured, whispering it into the shell of Tonks's ear, tightening his grip, his fingers clutching onto the back of her shirt for support. Remus hugged her firmly but carefully, resting his strong hand on the back of Tonks's head, pressing in tightly.

It made a drop of rage spread as a fever within his bloodstream to think of Dolores Jane Umbridge taken advantage of his wife's vulnerability when she was still healing, and Moody and Mr. Weasley, from the sound of things, had _betrayed_ his wife's trust tonight.

At last, he pulled back reluctantly to study Tonks's face, feeling his heart giving a painful little lurch as he reached up a slightly trembling hand to brush a wavy lock of her hair off Tonks's shoulder, before remembering that the other werewolf had escorted her home. "Miss Jameson," he called out, raising his voice slightly to ensure Norah heard him.

Norah, whose back was turned on both of them as the young blonde witch had turned on the heel of her black leather boot to go, slowly swiveled back around, shifting at the waist slightly, and lifted her chin somewhat hesitantly to regard Lupin with a furtive, guilty look in her eyes, though why she wore an expression of such guilt was beyond Remus.

"Thank you," he managed to croak out in a rough, coarse voice. "For saving my wife. Please," he gestured towards the flung-open door of their cottage. "Do not leave just yet, wait for a moment. I—I want to hear exactly what happened, Norah. Come in. Get warm."

Norah swallowed a lump in her throat, though Tonks quickly nodded her agreement. This was…weird. What did Remus want with her if she had nothing to offer in return?

She had _done_ her part. Gotten Tonks home to him safely, and now, why did he even want her there? Tonks could tell Mr. Lupin everything that she was comfortable sharing.

Remus and Tonks collectively continued looking down at Norah from their perch on the topmost step of their cottage's porch, waiting for the young blonde woman to answer.

He did not ask again. He just continued waiting patiently for Norah to respond.

"All right. But only for a moment. It's getting late, and I'm afraid I cannot stay," She heard herself give in, slumping her shoulders, shoving her hands in the pockets of her black leather jacket, and followed the married couple up the steps and into the little house.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Lupin called from the kitchen, and both Tonks and Norah's wolfish hearing picked up on the clanging sound of what sounded like a teapot, as Remus was no doubt in the midst of preparing a hot drink to calm his wife.

Norah shook her head. "I—I'm fine, thank you, Mr. Lupin," she politely declined. She turned around and watched Tonks eyeballing her from her perch on the couch, having sat down, and pulled her knees up to her chest, draping a thick blanket over her lap, shivering. The married couple didn't have too terribly much in terms of decorations.

A few moving photographs carefully framed of their wedding day hung on the mantle near the fireplace, which Tonks pointed her wand at and lit the hearth with a crackling fire. A comfortable-looking sofa, a few chairs, two or three shelves filled with books.

Tonks spoke up from her spot on the sofa, offering Norah a tired smile as her husband finally emerged from the kitchen, carrying three mugs of steaming hot tea on a plastic tray. "You can sit down if you want, Norah. We don't bite," Tonks joked weakly, offering the young blonde werewolf a wry little half-smile, though Norah wasn't fooled. It didn't reach the younger witch's eyes; her smile and her light gray eyes were incredibly strained.

Norah slowly sat down across from Remus and Tonks in the spare leather armchair across from the fire, appearing to try to purposefully keep her distance as best she could, only begrudgingly accepting one of the steaming mugs of hot Earl Grey tea when she sensed that Tonks's husband was not about to take no for an answer, and would probably think her incredibly rude if she declined.

She sighed, lifting the rim of the mug to her cracked lips, and winced as the burning hot liquid soothed her throat going down. It seemed to take Norah an eternity to find her voice, merely content to watch for a moment as Lupin pulled his wife close and rubbed small, comforting circles on her back.

Whispering soothing words of reassurance into Tonks's ear, purposefully too low for Norah's heightened wolfish senses to pick up on, not that she was about to eavesdrop, anyways, she would never stoop that low. Furrowing her brows into a frown, she shoved aside her mug of tea on the saucer, setting it on the coffee table in front of her before lacing her hands together, fidgeting with her wedding band before speaking to Tonks.

"You _know_ we can get that man in trouble, right, Tonks?" she pressed, careful to keep her voice as non-accusatory as possible. "I _saw_ what that man was about to do to you. He would have humiliated you entirely if I hadn't come when I did. I'll back up your story. We can describe him to the Aurors if you want to call them and press charges against him. You don't have to let that creep get away with what he almost succeeded in doing to you."

Tonks sighed and closed her eyes shut, hearing Remus's audible gasp of surprise. She really didn't bloody want to deal with this right now, but sooner or later, she owed her husband an explanation. _Guess I should just get it over with now_ , Tonks thought bitterly.

"Dora?" Remus pressed, the edges of his voice was concerned and hardened. Tonks liked to think she knew her husband well enough to know when the man was growing angry, though, in this regard, it was not at her or Sirius for getting on his last nerve with something trivial.

She knew his anger was stemming from what this unknown man had almost done to his wife tonight, and he didn't even know the full extent of the damage.

Norah tried again. "You don't have to let that wizard get away with this. What he did to you was a hate crime, Tonks. I can't tell you what to do, but I really think you should press charges against him and file a complaint with your former department. With all your connections, someone could _easily_ track this man down and make him pay for this."

"I know." Tonks's words were so faint, that Remus felt sure he might have missed his wife's words completely had he not been sitting right next to her and hanging onto her every word. Tonks blearily opened her eyes and struggled to focus her stinging, tear-filled vision more than a few feet in front of her as she stared across their living room at the wall. She could not still quite believe just how bloody awful and traumatic tonight was.

What had started out as a routine day at the Ministry had ended with her losing her job in front of Arthur and Kingsley, and an hour or two of sulking in The Leaky Cauldron had devolved into perhaps the most terrifying moment Tonks had ever experienced in her entire life, and she had been through quite a lot during her career as a seasoned Auror.

Remus furrowed his brows and looked up at the young blonde witch across the coffee table, noticing how she was practically leaning off the edge of her seat and fixing his wife with a pointed glower, trying every tactic she could think of to get Tonks to come to sense.

Something within the woman's countenance gave Lupin pause, and his frown deepened as he glanced at his wife out of the corner of his eyes. A muffled noise caught his attention. A mournful, broken weeping. She didn't seem to be too harmed, for which Remus felt immensely grateful, though he felt the surge of anger course through his bloodstream yet again at the thought of someone hurting his sweet, innocent, lovely wife.

And now, he wanted nothing more than to track down the very wizard who had done this to Dora himself, allow the Mad Beast to take control and rip him limb from limb.

For all the times he had seen Tonks cry, Lupin felt sure he had never quite seen her completely lose her composure like this. Whatever she had endured must have been traumatizing. "Tonks?" he murmured, draping his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. "Tell me what happened," he urged, unable to keep the note of desperation out of his voice. "Either one of you. _Please_ ," Remus begged, biting the inside wall of his cheek.

A pause in Tonks's response was nothing that Lupin could have hoped for, with Remus able to practically smell his wife's fear that was emanating off her in waves, and the hand not currently draped over his wife's shoulder curled into a tight, shaking fist in his lap.

His wife sanguinely raised her head at the sound of her husband's soft, un-accusing voice, and the look of anguish and heartbreak on her pale face almost physically hurt him.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, fresh tears streaking down her blotchy cheeks.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, well aware his tone sounded clipped and the edges of his voice hardened and rougher than usual, though he currently feared the worst for Tonks.

She shook her head numbly in response. "N—no, Rem. I—I'm not," she whispered, ducking her head in response though both Remus and Tonks glanced sharply upward once they heard Norah emit a low, threatening growl of disbelief from where Norah sat.

"I don't know exactly _what_ that creep _did_ to you, Tonks, but he shouldn't be allowed to just get away with it. What if he tries to do it to someone else, then what?" Norah started cautiously, her sharp, sky-blue eyes flitting from Tonks to Remus, seeing the antagonized hurt in Remus's eyes and deciding it was not her business to reveal the precarious position she had found the man's wife in, that it was going to have to be Tonks's news to share, if and whenever she was ready. She drew in a deep breath and continued. "And you don't have to tell us if you don't want to, but at the very least, I still think you should press charges. You did not deserve any of that kind of treatment and he _does_ deserve to face consequences for his actions," she added, hardening her voice as she fixed Remus with a pointed stare of her own, who quickly nodded his agreement, though he had a thousand and one burning questions on the tip of his tongue, just begging to be asked. He needed to know if his wife needed to go to St. Mungo's, if their baby was going to be all right.

Lupin watched in silence as Norah murmured a half-hearted excuse as she rose from her seat about how it was getting late, thanks for the tea, but she needed to get going.

Though right as Norah's hand was outstretched and reaching for the doorknob to show herself out as she shrugged into her black leather jacket as much as possible for warmth, Tonks's voice cut through the tense, silent room, rendering Norah unmoved.

"Norah?" Tonks spoke up from her place on the sofa as she rested back against one of the couch cushions.

Norah hesitated, but looked back, glancing over her shoulder. "Yeah? What is it?"

"Did you find me on purpose? Did…" Tonks bit her lip in indecision, letting out a tiny sigh as the soothing, circular motion of her husband rubbing small circles into her back calmed her. She closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy the sensation before opening them again and meeting Norah's patient gaze. "Did Arthur or someone at the Ministry tell you where I'd be? I mean…how is it that you knew to come to The Leaky Cauldron when you did? Were you actively looking for me?"

Though Tonks didn't have the answer yet, it did not mean that no matter what the young blonde werewolf's motives were, she couldn't appreciate the gesture. If Norah hadn't found her, well…Tonks shuddered, not even wanting to think of what would have happened to her if she hadn't come when Norah had.

"I was worried for you," Norah answered simply with a shrug of her shoulders.

"You were?" Tonks questioned, raising her brows in slight disbelief at the She-Wolf.

"Yes. When you didn't come out of the witches' lavatory after about fifteen minutes, I got concerned. I wanted to make sure you were okay and weren't hurt or sick or anything."

Tonks nodded and slowly leaned her head against Remus's shoulder, feeling relieved that her husband did not object. She rested her head against Lupin's chest and closed her eyes, feeling his arms wrap tightly and securely around her shoulders, adjusting the blanket so he effectively joined her underneath the blanket, for comfort as much for warmth for the light breeze that was wafting its way through the open front door of their house as Norah had by this point, opened the door and was preparing to leave for home.

"Thank you for coming to check on me, Norah," Tonks finally told Norah Jameson in a low whisper, trying silently to thank the slightly older blonde witch with just her eyes. Norah would never have any idea just how truly grateful she was that Norah had come into the loo when she had. "And for getting rid of that creep," she sighed, reaching up a lock of her hair to tuck back off her shoulder. "I think you're right," Tonks added, glancing at her husband briefly, ignoring Remus's look of relieved surprise as she heard him exhale. "Rem and I will file a report in the morning. I know just who to call," she growled.

Norah nodded, her ears perking up a little upon hearing that Tonks was going to do the right thing and report the man who had attempted to physically assault her in the lavatory of The Leaky Cauldron, briefly tempted to ask who her contact at the Ministry was, though thought better of it when she witnessed Tonks trying (and failing) to stifle a huge yawn with the back of her hand. Norah took that as her immediate cue to leave them.

"Well, I should—I—I need to get going," Norah mumbled, feeling a light pink blush speckle along her cheeks as she swiped her blonde bangs out of her eyes and tucked a lock of her pixie back behind her ear where it belonged. "It's late, and you two have a lot to talk about."

She turned away, though not before turning back around and biting on her lip.

"Maybe in another day or two, I could stop by?" Norah asked, directing her attention now to Remus. "I—I need to chase down a few more leads, but I think I might have an idea of where my son and husband are being held, where Greyback is hiding," she growled lowly. "I don't want to make a move until I know for sure, but I'll be in touch if that's okay…"

Remus nodded, waiting with bated breath as Norah mumbled a half-hearted goodbye and thanked them both again for the tea and allowing her a minute or two to warm up before she shrugged into her black leather jacket and gingerly closed the door behind her. He did not speak for several minutes, not even after hearing the loud, audible _crack_! of Norah Jameson turning on the heel of her boot and Disapparating off of their property.

Lupin did not know exactly what to say in this regard and decided it would be best to wait for Tonks to speak first when she had calmed down a bit and had drunken her tea.

It did not take her long. "I—I lost my job today, Remus. U—Umbridge _fired_ me. She—she about out about my admittance into St. Mungo's somehow, had the discharge paperwork and the photographic evidence of my scars, said that I was a danger to my department, and they could not keep me on staff," Tonks whispered in a hoarse voice that did not sound like her at all, in a faint whisper, that had Remus not already been hanging onto his wife's every word, he felt sure he'd have missed her words entirely.

Lupin felt his concern melt away to something quieter and sadder as he watched Tonks struggle to reign in her grief, clutching onto her mug of still-hot tea, seemingly afraid to meet his gaze. Remus felt his lips part open slightly to speak, though he found he had nothing to say in response to that. He could tell just by looking at Tonks that his wife had never been fired from a job before in her life, and neither, to that extent, had he.

Remus had merely taken it upon himself to never keep a job too terribly long, lest his employer finds out the truth about his condition, constantly having to move positions, always before the next full moon cycle and forced to take menial jobs that were well below his skills and paygrade.

Professor Dumbledore had hinted to Remus more than once within the last week or so how much the students at Hogwarts missed him in the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and how the kids all wished he would come back.

Particularly Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He had been mentioning to broach the subject with Tonks tonight, that he was seriously considering the Headmaster's offer, considering the little fact that Tonks was now pregnant with his child and they would soon have a baby to support and care for, though now, Remus knew, was not the time for that.

He racked his brain in silence, trying to think of something to say, but he was too distracted. All he understood in this moment was that his wife had suffered egregiously at the hands of a prejudiced wizard, had gone through unspeakable torment that no one should ever have to suffer through, and Remus did not know how to help Dora tonight.

"What can I do?" he eventually asked, his voice hushed as he rubbed her shoulder.

"Just…hold me," Tonks whispered, pulling back slightly to study Remus's face, her face twisting and contorting with grief until her calm façade crumpled, and her head dropped back into her folded arms. Hesitantly, Lupin scooted a fraction of an inch closer on the sofa and wrapped his arms around his wife's violently trembling, slender form.

Tonks immediately turned and buried her face in Lupin's chest, where she let herself cry into the material of his thick sweater without any kind of restraint, now that they were alone. As his sweater grew damp with his wife's tears, Lupin tried to understand what had happened, the unspoken event that lingered in the air between them as he recollected over what few tidbits he had managed to learn from snippets of Norah's conversation.

Someone had attacked his wife tonight in The Leaky Cauldron. Why? Had Tonks done something, said something perhaps, to offend this unnamed man? Was she injured?

Remus did not give his questions a voice, as much as they burned for answers. He had a feeling (or at least, he hoped!) that Tonks would come to him with it when she was ready.

All he could do was honor Dora's request and hold her in silence and allow the waves of sadness to pass through her. He continued his efforts to calm his wife down, rubbing small circles near the center of her spine until her body ceased to shudder with hysterical sobs.

"I'll…I'll tell you what happened, Rem," Tonks whispered in a faint voice. "I—I only hope that you won't…that you won't be mad at me," she croaked, blinking back fresh tears.

"How could I _ever_ be mad at you, Dora?" Remus challenged immediately, though he felt more questions rise within his chest, and not without a small modicum of anxiety.

Lupin pushed them away, reminding himself there was a time and a place, and he needed to be patient with his wife. She was not at all used to the harsh prejudices and living conditions of life as a fully-fledged werewolf. Tonight, sadly, had been her first exposure to his reality.

He'd had his entire life since he was five years old to learn how to cope with his condition and the challenges that being a werewolf ultimately posted, but not Tonks. Tonks was barely two weeks past her admittance into St. Mungo's as it was.

Tonks had said they wanted to talk, and so they would, and it was this thought that caused Remus to brush away these concerns with a careful tenderness as he stroked Dora's cheek, brushing away the last of her tears with the pad of his calloused thumb.

After a moment, Remus drew away from her. Tonks looked up at Lupin with hollowed, listless eyes, her tears now completely spent, all that was left was a horrible emptiness.

A single stray strand of her soft, red hair this evening clung to her cheek, and Remus brushed it away with a careful tenderness, and he draped the blanket that was resting on top of the couch cushions over her shoulders. "I don't want you getting sick, sweetheart."

Tonks offered Remus a weak smile in thanks, though to her husband, it looked more like a pained grimace. "I—I scared you tonight, Rem. I—I'm sorry for what happened."

She bit her bottom lip and glanced down into her mug of tea, not wanting to meet his gaze. Lupin said nothing as he settled back down onto the couch and pulled Tonks close.

Tonks was right. He _was_ scared for Dora, but in his mind, it was nothing compared to the relief of seeing Norah Jameson had escorted Tonks home before anything bad happened. He had fully been about to go out and look for her at all their usual spots and had been on the brink of Disapparating himself when Norah had brought Tonks home.

The pair of them stayed silent for a moment. Remus watched Tonks nurse her Earl Grey tea as she tried to collectively gather her thoughts. Outside their simple cottage, a heavy wind had begun to pick up and blew a howling draft through their living room.

So much so, that Lupin had to raise his wand and close the window from where he sat.

"I—I don't know where to start, Rem," Tonks whispered eventually once Remus had set his wand down on the coffee table in front of him. "I…I lost my job tonight, Remus."

Tonks did not look at Remus directly, choosing instead to speak into her mug, her downcast eyes brimming with shame and a sudden onset of fresh tears, though she swallowed down hard past the lump in her throat and fought back the urge to cry again.

Lupin let out a tiny sigh and took both her hands in his, giving them a firm but reassuring squeeze. He needed to let Dora know that he was right by her side right now.

"I'm right here where I'm sitting, sweetheart. I'm not anywhere else. Start from wherever you want, Tonks. I promise that I won't get angry with you, Dora. I swear it."

Tonks nodded, sniffling once or twice before setting her mug of tea down and speaking.

And so, Tonks started at the beginning and told him everything…


	15. To Not Look Back

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Tonks breathed out a shaking breath by the time she finished recounting what had happened to Remus, who had remained calm and quiet throughout the duration of her explanation, save for the parts about what Max had tried to do to her in the bathroom of The Leaky Cauldron. Her hand tightened in his as she pushed onward, and by the time she was finished, up to the point where Norah had come in at the last possible second and had saved her life, it shook.

By the time she was done with her story, her entire body was shaking.

"I—I should have told you where I was going after…after I got fired, Remus," she murmured, heat speckling along her cheeks as shame coursed through her body. Her voice was calm and collected, but her eyes were shiny with glistening, unshed tears. She did not meet Lupin's gaze. Instead, she merely proceeded to stare at an empty space on the floor, not letting go of his hand. "I—I should have told you what happened and come straight home. I'm sorry. I—I _scared_ you tonight, Remus, and I shouldn't have done it, love."

Tonks was right in that regard. She _had_ scared him tonight, though it was nothing compared to the immense relief at having her home before anything else could have happened to her, and he was grateful Norah had been there. If the young blonde werewolf would not have been, he didn't like to think. As his wife drew in a few scattered, shaking breaths, Lupin mulled over the details of what had happened to Dora tonight in his mind. As much as it pained him to have to tell her that life for people like them did not exactly get easier, sooner or later, she was going to have to deal with it, but Norah was right. That man who had assaulted her in The Leaky Cauldron, should _not_ be allowed to get away with it, and he would file the report himself first thing in the morning, even if Tonks refused. He'd call Alastor or Kingsley to come.

"I—I can understand if you won't…if you don't forgive me for what happened, b—but I thought…if I kept it from you, you wouldn't worry. I…I _hate_ how I see people treat you in the streets when we…whenever we go out. I see them stare at you behind our backs, even though you ignore it, Remus. I notice it. I hate it. I just thought that if I could keep you worrying about me, then…it would be fine," Tonks murmured, her voice hoarse and subdued as one of her fingers lifted and gingerly traced the worst of his scars with her fingertips, eliciting a light little shudder as her fingers left sparks in their wake.

Lupin paused, unsure of how to respond. It would have been easy to be angry with her. Dora had gone off on her own following her firing from the Ministry without telling Arthur or Kingsley or anyone else where she was going. She had, after all, lied by omission to him, by trying to keep it a secret.

But Remus couldn't find it within him to work up the emotion. Despite the grim nature of her story, and the fact that Dora was incredibly apologetic and looking to make amends for something that was, in his mind, not her fault.

All he could do was pity her, and the crushing weight of the guilt that he had placed her here, he could hardly bear it. When she lifted her chin slightly to check his reaction and to try to gauge what her husband was thinking, there was a horrible aching in her light gray eyes, brimming with tears, a terrible vulnerability that made Remus ache with a sudden fierce protectiveness of her.

She needed…something from him in this moment— _anything_ —that would indicate that he understood her needs, though he didn't know what she wanted from him. Dora did not seem to be seeking forgiveness, but empathy.

"Did he hurt you, Tonks?" Remus asked after what felt like a long silence between the two of them, and she recognized the hardness in her husband's normally quiet and kind tone. Clipped and hard, his voice trembled.

Tonks slowly lifted her chin to regard Remus in silence a moment. She was not fooled. He was growing angry that the thought someone did this to her. But she knew there was more to it than that, for Remus to grow so angry.

His fear always manifested itself as anger, courtesy of the Wolf within him, and the Mad Beast's temper, which peaked during that time of the month.

Tonks blinked, startled at the shift in his countenance. "We're fine," Tonks sighed, feeling her hand instinctively drift to her flat stomach. She furrowed her brows into a frown, feeling them come together as she frowned.

"What is it, Rem?" she whispered urgently. "What aren't you telling me? Is it…" Tonks bit her bottom lip, sticking it out in a slight pout, worried.

She had never seen Remus look so defeated and…timid, even, as he sanguinely lifted his chin to look at her, his skin amber in the faint glow from the embers of the fire in their hearth. It would be up to her to bring him down from this state of anger, and just that thought alone was enough to send another unpleasant tremor of fear down her spine.

She was, perhaps for the first time in her adult life, at a loss for words.

That one stubborn lock of brown hair had fallen into his left eye, that tended to act like a shield, a curtain of sorts between himself and whatever he did not wish to see, and Tonks could tell by Remus's curt, sharp flick of his wrist as he irritably brushed it out of his eye, that he was furious with her, but she did not know why.

Whenever he stood up straight at his full height of 6'3 like he was doing now, he towered over Tonks. He looked, perhaps for the first time since ever knowing the man, truly frightening, and when he lifted his chin to meet Tonks's gaze, there was an icy coldness there that did not belong in his brown eyes, an unfamiliar hardness. Tonks swallowed the lump in her throat.

She'd never seen him look like this before. He was…angry. She had seen him annoyed (mostly whenever Sirius or Harry was especially getting on his nerves, though the man was much too polite to admit this to himself), upset, yes, but never angry. And she knew, just by meeting his gaze, she was the cause of it.

His head snapped up so fast that Tonks had to move her head back to avoid connecting with it. He almost gave himself whiplash. "That man from the tavern would have killed you back there, simply because you're a werewolf-like I am. How can you be so _calm_ about this, love? You are _pregnant_ with our child and you step in front like that and risk your life by provoking him? Yet, here you stand, more concerned with my well-being. _Why_?" Remus shouted, running his hand through his light brown hair in anguish. A muscle in his jaw twitched and he swallowed.

Tonks looked as though Remus had slapped her, she felt her mouth hang open slightly in shock, and she could practically feel the color drain from her face.

"Because you are my _husband_ , Remus," she protested as they walked, careful to keep her voice low, though she didn't know why given it was just the two of them in their cottage. "I made a promise to you on our wedding day and I aim to _keep_ that promise. You gave me a _ring_ and I gave you my _word_ , Remus. That should be enough. I am yours and you are mine, remember? I told you on our wedding night that I would not let you destroy yourself anymore, and that includes right now. I do not think that if you had been there with me, that you would have killed Max."

"But I could have! I—I _wanted_ to after hearing from Norah what he tried to _do_ to you," he cried, blinking back briny tears. He turned his head away sharply and hung his head in shame. "Greyback was right. About everything. I'll always be… _this_ ," he growled, gesturing with his hand towards his body, towards the scars on his face. "And you, what could a beautiful woman possibly see in someone like me?"

"I'm going to stop you right now. You are no monster, Remus. You are a man, and it's time you started seeing yourself as such. You have saved my life three times now. Once from myself, again from Lucius Malfoy when we helped Harry get out of the Department of Mysteries, and now again. You would not have done those things had you not cared for me, you would have simply left me well alone, but you did not. Why can you not see that I _love_ you and that none of what happened back there was your fault? The fault is with that creep, Max, from the bar, _not_ us," she whispered, feeling the beginnings of hot tears sting and blur her vision.

"But it is!" Lupin shouted, ignoring how his wife flinched. "If you had never married me, th—then none of this would have happened to you. You almost _died_ today because of what I am. Knowing me and having me in your life has been one of the _worst_ things that could have ever happened to you," he bellowed, looking livid as he restlessly began to pace their floor in front of the fireplace in agitation. "I could handle it were Greyback after just me, but he's got you in his sights now, because of _me_. My actions have _consequences_. It's too late. I—I didn't think this thing _through_ , we had no idea what was going to happen and now y—you almost died because of what I am, and you're…you and our baby would be much better off, a hundred times so, without a husband a father of whom it must always be ashamed, Dora. I—I can't…"

His voice cracked as he fought back his tears. He did not want to do this to her, but after what he had heard tell of what had happened to his pregnant wife from both Norah and now from Tonks herself, there could be no question at what he was being forced to do, but Merlin…

Why then, did it hurt so much? Cradling his wife's head in both his hands, he closed off the gap of space between them and captured her mouth without so much as a warning, giving her no time to react or think about it. If this was the last time he was ever to kiss her, to truly feel her, then it was worth it.

They fit so perfectly; he could not help but let out a content sigh.

Her mouth was just as soft as he had imagined and as he lowered his hands down towards her neck and grazed past her collarbones, he felt her fingers grip hold of his sweater, her hands then splaying across his chest. He had never felt anything so sensual and it was as if everything suddenly became heightened as if they were somewhere else.

She felt so much, he could feel it, but with inexperience on both of their parts, she knew not what to do next, and this only caused him to want more of her, to finish what he had started yet again.

Everything was real, the tiny moan he heard her give out was real, her lips against his was real, this part especially so, and he knew, when he felt the tip of her tongue touch as his and he slanted her head and deepened their kiss, that he had never felt anything as intense as this and probably never would again.

That was what she did. If he had thought he had known what true desire felt like before, he must have been dreaming. She lifted her hands to his neck, this time finding purchase in his brown hair, sending a tremor down his spine.

Her movements were unpracticed and raw, it was clear they were both feeling by instinct, but she was everything he thought she would be and so much more. They had not had enough, and he could sense it as he broke their kiss at last, and as he looked down into her gray eyes, he saw a flame there that had never be present before, which only ignited his baser desires even further.

The heat from her skin was so overwhelming; he wanted nothing more than to be enveloped by it if she would allow him. Her arms began to reach around his back and when he felt her press the entire length of her body towards his, he realized if they did not stop it now, it would inevitably lead to something much more dangerous and much more passionate, and look where that had led them.

Because of him, he had endangered the lives of his wife and unborn child, and the smartest thing to do would be to pull away from her.

But Merlin, how he wanted it more than anything. Before he lost all his sanity, he tore his lips from her delicate neck and held her at arm's length, forcing her to relinquish her hold on him. As they both stared at each other, their lips parted, and only one single thought ran through his mind right now.

For the first time in his life, he felt truly _alive_. "You beautiful angel," he whispered incredulously, still unable to believe the turn of events the night had taken, bringing her closer towards him so she could hear him. "See what you do to me?" Her eyes widened, perhaps finally realizing internally what had just transpired regarding their admission of their true feelings and the release of his feelings. Thanks to her, he now knew himself to be just a man.

He was not a monster or a demon. He felt practically bowled over as she pressed her lips against his, her fingers drifting upwards and played with the ends of his hair, sending a tremor down his spine.

As he leaned in again gently to kiss her, his hand buried in the back of her hair as he pulled her closer. She would have thought that after all the hours she'd spent with him, watching him talk, laugh, and frown—that she would have known all there was to know about his lips. But she could not have imagined how warm they would feel pressed up against her own.

For Remus, Tonks's kiss stole the words he didn't need to say. In that silence, all their secrets were laid bare, all their passions and the spark of love that had existed between them. At that moment, in her love, he found his resolve, his strength. One kiss and he knew. He had the courage to do what needed to be done. He pulled apart, smoothing back her bangs off of her forehead one last time. He empathized with Tonks more than she knew.

"I—I'm so sorry. I won't have your life in danger anymore." His voice broke and wavered as he fought back tears. "I—I don't want to do this, sweetheart, but there's no other way. I'm so sorry. I—I never meant to hurt you. I love you. You will have to find it within your heart to forgive me. Dumbledore has asked of me to infiltrate Greyback's camp. I leave tonight, and he explicitly stated it's going to be dangerous. I cannot allow you to come with me. Not this time, sweetheart. I—I was going to tell you. You'll have to forgive me, Dora. I have no choice in this matter. There's no one else that can go, and I won't have you coming with you in your current condition and putting yourself and the life of our baby at risk."

"What…oh, you cannot _possibly_ be saying what I think you're saying?" Tonks asked, her voice shaking as her eyes met his for what was to be the last time. "Please," she begged, tugging on the sleeve of the traveling cloak he wore underneath his sweater and trousers, and biting her bottom lip. "Tell me it's not true…You—you _cannot_ go to Greyback's camp, Remus! He _knows_ you! He'll _kill_ you! You cannot _leave_ me here alone in our home when I'm _pregnant_."

She was _begging_ him now and blinking back her salty, briny tears.

"No. I can't do this to you, Dora." Remus slowly turned away, trying to hide the sadness and heartbreak in his eyes and in his voice. "I have to. Dumbledore's orders, love. I—I would take you with me if I could, but I _can't_. You're pregnant and in no condition to come with me. You're staying _here_."

Remus, sensing Tonks needed the comfort, pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "I love you," he murmured, whispering it into the shell of her ear. "But you cannot follow me, love. You're staying here. End of discussion."

Tonks swallowed down hard past the lump in her throat, ducking her head. "I guess you're going, then." Tonks gulped down a sob and tried to keep her composure as he started to walk away, hating that she would not know if he would return to her or not.

If she were not pregnant, she could accompany her husband, make sure that Greyback did not kill him. But she couldn't.

Her eyes dripped with tears and she jumped as she heard a knock at their door, Molly Weasley entering their living room, not even bothering to knock.

 _When did she get here_? Tonks wondered, frowning through her tears.

Tonks blinked owlishly at the ginger-haired matriarch of the Weasley family. It did not take her brain long to put together the missing pieces and piece together why Molly was here. No doubt Arthur had told her everything.

Molly no doubt had seen Remus's expression upon storming outside and Disapparating. "I could hear it all from outside," Molly sighed, a look of exasperation on her face as she pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "Don't worry about your husband, Tonks," Molly whispered soothingly, patting the small of her back. "He's just upset. Give him time and space. He'll come around. I can see it in his eyes just how much Remus loves you. You'll see. He loves you entirely too much to stay mad at you. I don't know what he said to you or what happened, but everything's going to be just fine. I promise. Come, dear, let's get you a fresh pot of tea made, and you can tell me all about it. I'll make you something to eat, Tonks, you're looking much too peaky."

Her words only made Tonks feel worse. And then she started crying despite her best attempts to hold it back.

The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face and drenching poor Molly's housedress. She felt the muscles of her chin tremble like a small child and she looked towards the window at the moonlight, as if the soft, hazy light could somehow soothe her. There was a strange buzzing in her head once more, the side effect of this constant fear, constant stress Tonks lived in and with.

She heard her own sounds, like a distressed child, raw from the inside. It took something out of her that the young witch did not know she had left to give. That's the way it was when people were hard, bitter. It was like theft, an injury no other person could see, something that she rarely let others—not even see.

The only person who she let see in such a vulnerable state like this was currently walking away from her for good. Not giving Tonks or Molly a chance to respond at what he had done, what he was doing, Remus bolted towards their front porch before she could say another word.

He didn't want to let her go, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his wife into his arms and never let her go if he could help it, but it was too dangerous. Greyback had to be stopped, and where he was going, Dora could not follow. What Remus did know for certain was in this moment, the kindest thing he could do for his wife was to walk away from her as he turned on the heel of his boot and Disapparated, without even having to think of where he wanted to go.

He knew where he wanted to go.

Lupin was smart enough not to look back.


	16. Bearer of Bad News

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Molly Weasley blinked as she recognized someone in Diagon Alley calling her name. "Good morning, Mrs. Weasley!" Swiveling her head to look in the general direction of where the voice had come, she relaxed, forcing her lips into a smile as she was met with the sight of Florean Fortescue, the man who ran the ice cream shop here in Diagon Alley and with whom she was on generally good terms with.

He used to give all seven of her children free ice cream when they were all younger on Sundays when she would come here to do her weekly shopping for the week. Mrs. Weasley stared into Mr. Fortescue's eyes, absolutely determined not to look away first.

She was certain the old aging wizard knew that Molly was trying to hide something, but still, she was determined to fool him. She contorted her lips into an awkward little half-smile, but her cheeks were not so compromising, and she knew it did not meet her dark brown eyes.

Molly could feel their reluctance to be molded falsely, and when Mr. Fortescue averted his gaze for a moment to tend to a paying customer, her smile fell lifeless, allowing her normally kind and quite friendly face to return to its usually cold, hard gawk these days now.

In truth, Mrs. Weasley did not know why she had stopped by the ice cream parlor. It was really quite pathetic in size in terms of the rest of the shop that lined the edge of Diagon Alley, hardly enough room for ten people, but it suited their small shopping plaza.

People rarely came to Mr. Fortescue's parlor these days, at least, not for the ice cream, though he had a reputation for the best sundae around, they came for the gossip. But Molly, Merlin bless her soul, could always be relied upon for decent conversation.

Except today, though, Mr. Fortescue noticed with a keenly trained eye as he eyed Mrs. Weasley walking towards her, her lined face coming together in a slight frown, her brows furrowed, in spite of the fake smile that was so evidently plastered upon her face to try to fool him.

Today, however, something was different. _Off_. Today, Mrs. Weasley was coming to him for a different reason altogether, though he had no chance to comment on it as his newest employee came staggering into his parlor, followed by the young man who worked at Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley, whom it was no secret among those in Diagon Alley that he harbored something of a rather intense crush on Florean's newest employee of a month.

Perhaps that was the reason for the truly murderous look in his young employee's blue orbs.

The young man lifted his head and met Mrs. Weasley's gaze, and Molly froze. She _knew_ this fellow. This chap was Tonks's best friend growing up, Ollie Brennan, and her son, Charlie's, as well. Though Mrs. Weasley had no time to speak as Mr. Fortescue spoke up, causing her to tear her gaze away from Ollie.

"Ah, Miss Jameson, you're here, good, I was worried you weren't going to come in today, you've taken quite ill the last few days, dear," he chirped cheerily, at the young blonde witch that was looking rather pale and peaky as she entered, dark purple bags clinging underneath her eyes, looking thoroughly disgruntled and cross as she slung her black purse off her shoulder and waved her wand once so her bag hung itself of its own accord on the coat rack by the front door, as did her black traveling cloak. She forced her lips into a light smile and sighed.

Mrs. Weasley furrowed her brows, watching as the young witch who looked a few years younger than Remus, who was thirty-six next March, she pinpointed this young blonde lass at around age thirty or so, thinking the witch was blond from root to tip, and it showed.

Her pale skin was almost without pigment and her hair, which was cut short in a stylish short pixie cut, easier to keep out of the way, she surmised, the most pale blonde possible, each strand almost translucent when seen on its own. In Diagon Alley, the young witch was as obvious as the end of a lighted wand caused by the Lumos Wand Lighting Charm in the dark.

Though she _was_ really quite pretty, yes, nobody else in Diagon Alley was as pale as this young witch. Molly supposed she could have passed for an albino, but either way, she did not belong in this place, though as the young blonde slowly adjusted her name tag on the front of her black polo shirt and shrugged into her set of black robes, lifting her chin, about to ask Mrs. Weasley what she could get for her, the girl froze.

And then, Molly was able to place where she had seen this she-stranger before, why the young woman was so familiar to her, but she had not been able to place where she had seen this girl before. It was Jameson. The young woman whom she and Arthur met in St. Mungo's the night of Tonks's attack.

Their gazes locked, and a light pink blush speckled along Norah's cheeks, though Molly offered her a curt little nod of her head, shooting the young lass that she hoped was a sympathetic smile. If Mr. Fortescue was well aware of the young woman's lycanthropic condition and what it entailed, he made no notice of it, though his brows furrowed at the sight of the dark-haired young man lingering near her.

"Is there something Miss Jameson can help you with, Mr. Brennan?" he snapped, no warmth in his voice, no doubt having noticed the grateful little look Norah shot him as she sulked behind Mr. Fortescue's ice cream parlor, her arms folded across her chest as she shot the young dark-haired, blue-eyed wizard a venomous look, and the wizard turned and shot the owner of the ice cream parlor a disarmingly white smile meant to disarm and give no meaning of any ill intent.

"As much as I would love to stay, you know I _cherish_ your sundaes, Mr. Fortescue, I cannot stay. I have…another appointment to keep this afternoon. I was…merely enjoying the pleasure of Miss Jameson's company, sir," he began in a deep voice as smooth as silk, languid, and Mrs. Weasley immediately knew this young man in his late twenties must be a former Slytherin. His voice was apologetic while he addressed Mr. Fortescue, though the man didn't look it.

Though he continued, not giving Mrs. Weasley any time to further ponder this. He dipped his head in submission towards Mr. Fortescue and offered young Norah an apologetic little nod, raising his head and looking at Norah with brimming blue eyes glistening with a strange unshed moisture.

"I merely…did not want you to walk the streets of Knockturn Alley alone, Norah. Seedy types walk our streets, you never know the types of men you'll run into. I thought that when you Apparated into my shop this morning, it was _not_ by mistake," he murmured, a little chuckle escaping his lips. "That you _truly_ desired my company for a change, that you would allow me to take you out to dinner one of these nights, Norah," he offered, shooting Norah a white grin.

Ollie Brennan, was all politeness and smiles and offered his hand in a handshake towards Molly Weasley, who was feeling quite flustered, but took it, though Mrs. Weasley, the intuitive witch that she was, was quick to notice how Tonks's best friend looked around the desolate little ice cream shop and scrunched his nose in disgust, a look of incredulity in the man's brilliant blue eyes, as if to say, "Who would have thought Jameson would end up working in a craphole like this?" Not meanly, not smugly, per se, more that he was just being observant.

Norah was halfway through opening up another container of the fudge ripple when Ollie spoke to the young blonde witch behind the counter. "Forget this place, Norah," he breathed, almost sounding desperate as he pleaded with her.

"A witch of your talents deserves _better_. This place, as delicious as your ice cream is, sir, no offense, is no place for a young woman of your talents. Forget scooping ice cream, Jameson, you're better than this. I—I want you to come work with me at Borgin and Burkes," Ollie murmured, raising his voice and casting an apprehensive glance towards Florean Fortescue, who merely proceeded to raise his eyebrows in alarm, though he offered up no verbal retort, gave a curt nod.

Norah rolled her eyes and scoffed. "What, and have to look at _your_ ugly face every day, Brenann?" she snorted. "I don't think so, Ollie. I—I'm _happy_ here. Free ice cream, you know," the young blonde murmured under her breath lowly.

But Ollie did not appear to be convinced by her answer, or fazed by her insult, and folded his arms across his chest, shrinking into his black woolen robes as much as he could for warmth against the bitter autumnal breeze that wafted through the ice cream parlor's open door in the attempt to attract a few straggling customers.

"Oh, really? Is _that_ why you work here, for the free ice cream, barely making 10 Galleons an hour? It's not even enough for you to afford your own _home_ , Jameson, much _less_ buy clothing and food that you need to survive in this world, Norah!" His tone became clipped and hardened.

Charlie and Tonks's best friend was growing angry, Mrs. Weasley recognized, by the look in his blue eyes.

She had seen it before in all seven of her children, and Mrs. Weasley liked to consider herself an expert in reading peoples' expression, as she was doing to Ollie Brennan right now. The way a muscle in his jaw twitched, his sky-blue brilliant blue eyes darkened, almost cerulean in color, the angrier he became.

Mrs. Weasley shot Mr. Fortescue a concerned look, who said nothing at first, wanting to see, she supposed, what his employee would say to deflect him.

"It's—it's not _free_ , it's part of my job, Ollie, now can I get you something or are you going to do me the favor of getting out of my way and heading back to Borgin and Burkes? Don't you have Death Eaters to pawn your wares off on?" Norah grumbled, becoming annoyed with Brennan's constant pestering of her new job, dramatically throwing her spoon that she had been using to taste test a small sample of Florean's latest creation, the fudge ripple, giving a little moan of appreciation as she gave the plastic spoon one last lick, throwing the spoon over her shoulder and successfully landing it into the trash can lid behind the counter.

Ollie furrowed his black brows into a frown and scowled, his lips pursing into a thin line. He huffed in frustration and did not seem altogether convinced.

"Do you _like_ it here, Norah?" he demanded, sounding fed up. "Be honest."

Norah grimaced. "It's—it's great," she murmured, the heat creeping to her cheeks, and even Mrs. Weasley could tell the young blonde was lying.

That this was, if she had a choice in the matter, not where she would have chosen to work.

"It's great work, Ollie. Keeps my hands busy, flexible schedule with my... ailments, and the pay is decent."

Ollie at first, did not seem like he was going to speak, and when he finally managed to find his voice at last, it shook, and Mrs. Weasley saw how angry the man was.

"My mistake," he growled in a dangerously quiet and low voice. "I merely thought that a witch with such promising potential in her life would want more out of life, but I can see that isn't the case. If you _do_ change your mind, Nor…you know where to find me. You deserve better, and I'll be waiting for you when you realize it yourself. Norah."

Norah made an odd little strangled noise at the back of her throat, a look of stunned disbelief and growing anger in her eyes, though before she could part her lips open to speak, the co-owner of Borgin and Burkes as Mr. Borgin was aging and nearing that point of sweet retirement, merely proceeded to bow his head and shot Norah a charming white smile, shoving his hands in the pockets of his black woolen robes and turned his back on Norah, Mr. Fortescue, and Molly and quit the scene of the ice cream parlor without another word to Norah.

Mrs. Weasley furrowed her brows into a frown as her gaze lingered on the young man's backside, wondering what the hell it was that Tonks saw in her best friend.

Tonks, the other night, when Remus had departed for Greyback's camps, had confided in the matriarch of the Weasley family over a cup of hot chamomile tea and a plate of chocolate chip cookies that the shop owner was due to stop by her and Lupin's cottage at some point this afternoon to check on her condition.

She could not quite understand it, but she knew she did _not_ trust the Slytherin. Snakes in the night, anybody who was sorted into Slytherin House.

Nobody, to the best of Molly's ability, who was _ever_ good, came from Slytherin.

Ollie Brennan worked in Borgin and Burke's for Merlin's sake! She frowned, though Mr. Fortescue cleared his throat, causing Molly to reluctantly tear her gaze away from the tall, dark-haired man's towering form.

"Jameson…"

Norah blinked owlishly, her blue eyes brimming with unshed moisture, before slowly swiveling her head in the direction of her boss. "Sir," she squeaked.

Her gaze nervously flitted from Mr. Fortescue and Molly, and Mrs. Weasley was surprised to see the young blonde lower her head, pink in shame.

"I—I don't know _what_ Ollie was thinking, sir, I apologize, I—I've told him a _million_ times that—that I'm too _old_ for him and _married_ besides sir, but he does not listen. He's...hopeful and persistent, even when there is no hope, despite our...history once, in a different life," she began, feeling quite flustered and nervous, but Florean stopped her.

"Say nothing more, child," he sighed, his frown deepening slightly. "If that boy continues to bother you, you _will_ let me know, and I should see something done about it, Mrs. Jameson," he added, rather sternly, fixing his employee with a pointed stare. Norah quickly nodded, actively averting Mr. Fortescue's gaze.

"Yes, sir," she mumbled, a fiery heat spreading to her cheeks, before slowly lifting her head to look at Molly, swallowing down hard past a lump in her throat.

She turned her head to the side once to cough and picked at a loose thread on the sleeves of her robe.

"What can I get for you, Mrs. Weasley?" she asked quietly.

But Mrs. Weasley waved her offer of free ice cream away with a brush of her hand, glancing down and picking at a loose thread of the sweater overtop her housedress.

"Nothing for me, Mrs. Jameson, thank you," she murmured, pointedly ignoring the young blonde's quizzical gaze, turning towards Florean.

"Are you well, Molly?" Florean offered kindly, not at all convinced, and motioned for Norah to scoop her out a few scoops of the fudge ripple in a cup, which she proceeded to do and silently handed it across the counter to her.

Mrs. Weasley wasn't exactly hungry but wasn't about to turn down a free offer of ice cream. As she accepted the cup from Norah Jameson, she felt a pang of pity stab at her heartstrings as she looked at the dark circles under her eyes.

The full moon was last night, Tonks's first without Remus by her side, and she wondered how the poor dear was taking his absence, though he'd only been gone but a single day.

The poor thing had been in a constant state of distress last night, her tears relentless following Remus's departure a month ago, not knowing if he'd come back. Mrs. Weasley sighed and took a seat at the table in the corner of the shop.

"Yes, yes, I am perfectly fine, Mr. Fortescue, don't worry about me, dear."

The ice cream parlor owner was not convinced and continued to press.

"And Tonks? How is she?" he urged, noticing Norah Jameson's ears practically perk up at the mention of the young witch, and Mrs. Weasley took note of it too, how she set aside the container of ice cream she'd been swapping out, and leaned against the counter, feigning disinterest, but hanging onto her every word.

Mr. Fortescue made a show of lacing his fingers together as he rested his hands on top of the circular table as he joined Mrs. Weasley in sitting down.

He knew full well it was a little pushing to ask. He had not seen Mr. and Mrs. Lupin in his shop in quite a long time, though the gossip in Diagon Alley, particularly after what had happened in The Leaky Cauldron with the young witch, ran rampant through the streets, and the whispers followed everywhere.

"Tonks has…not quite been herself, Mr. Fortescue, since her husband's departure. Surely, you can find it within yourself to understand. She is quite worried and sick with grief at not knowing if he's alive or dead," Molly sighed.

"He left?" Norah piped up, a hint of anger laced throughout her German accent, causing both Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Fortescue's heads to turn up and to the right to regard the young blonde, now having long forgotten preparing any of the day's gallons of ice cream and leaning heavily on the counter. " _What_?!"

Mrs. Weasley nodded as the fatigue of the last few weeks, constantly heading over to Tonks and Remus's cottage in Wales to check on the poor dear in her isolation was doing, was finally catching up to her at last, as she slumped forward in her chair, her shoulders sagging in defeat, her brows knitted together.

"I'm afraid I don't know what to do for the poor dear," whispered Mrs. Weasley in a hoarse voice as the morning sunshine streamed in through the glass window of Florean's ice cream shop and cast its light and warmth on her back. "She refuses to tell me any of what was said that night between her and her husband, which I really don't _need_ the details, but at least, why he left his wife while pregnant," she spat, the briefest notes of anger wafting its way to her voice.

Florean gave a curt nod of his head to show to Molly he understood, waiting for her to take a rather begrudging bite of the fudge ripple ice cream, the corners of his mouth twitching as they fought back a smile.

"It's good, then?" he asked, gesturing to the ice cream in her cup with a jerk of his head, grinning.

"The best," Molly sighed with an appreciative little moan, noticing out of the corner of her eye as the young blonde werewolf behind the counter strode out from behind it without even waiting for permission, pulling up a chair and joining her boss, though she straddled the chair backward, much to his disgust.

Mr. Fortescue crinkled his nose though he said nothing at his employee's proper lack of edict in the _proper_ way to sit in one of his chairs while on the clock.

A lesser person would have dismissed the matronly, ginger-haired witch right about here at the point of her explanation, merely suggesting to Molly there was nothing for her to worry about when it came to Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin.

From what he knew of the young witch (aside from her favorite flavor of his ice creams, which was pretty much anything chocolate!), he knew that Tonks was an independent strong woman who could most certainly handle her own.

At least, that's what Norah had informed him when he had inquired after what had happened between the two witches in The Leaky Cauldron's lavatory.

Molly gave a curt shake of her head, her red curls bouncing as she did so. "Tonks has had a hard life, as I am sure you know. Her parents disapprove of her marriage and now her pregnancy," she murmured, noticing the growing look of sympathy that was wracking Mrs. Jameson's face at the moment. "But if something is happening to her while she sits at home and waiting for Remus to return, if she's in any kind of danger, I wish that she would tell me, for I would have her live with Arthur and me in the Burrow, as a safe house. If Greyback really is after her now too, it is not safe for her while she's pregnant to stay cooped up in that cottage alone without any kind of protection while she waits for Remus to come home," Molly growled, and she heard Norah gasp.

No doubt, Norah Jameson's employer did not know of her lycanthropy, and Molly shot her a look of understanding that communicated she'd keep her secret. She watched the younger witch's shoulders sag forward in immense relief.

"Mrs. Weasley, if I may, for a moment, offer in my own two cents," Florean began, cautiously, fidgeting with his fingers. Either he had noticed Norah's outburst, or he had pointedly chosen to ignore it and had missed the silent exchange between Norah and Mrs. Weasley completely. "I think Mrs. Lupin merely needs time to adjust to what is happening. Her condition, while truly a monstrous thing, is nothing to be ashamed of. What happened is no one's fault."

The ice cream parlor owner took a pause to draw in a breath while he waited for Molly to compose herself before he continued. He had seen fear get the better of many a person before, but he too was worried for Remus's wife.

He missed her bright smile and her presence in the shop. He could understand Molly's pain, who thought of the young witch like a daughter to her.

But he also knew that fear could cloud a person's judgment, even in the best of times, as he had tried to tell Norah Jameson when he had hired her last month.

He had taken one look at the scars on her neck, already knowing full well what the young blonde lass was, at how skittish and nervous the girl was around him, not wanting to address it, but Florean had merely taken one look at it, and responded in a calm and collected tone, "I'm guessing when you want to tell me about that, Miss Jameson, you will."

And then he had hired her, out of pity for her. Ever since the Anti-Werewolf Legislation Act instituted by Senior Undersecretary Umbridge a few years prior, it made it difficult for wolves like Remus and his wife, and now Norah Jameson, to maintain decent employment.

"I think you should head home now, Mrs. Weasley," Florean Fortescue replied after a long and somewhat uncomfortable pause, choosing his words carefully as he glanced out the window, swearing he saw the kid from earlier, Brennan, that damned insufferable Borgin and Burkes manager, looking at her.

One glance at Norah out of the corner of his eyes through his glasses told Florean that she too, had seen it, and she was not at all impressed, but there was a glimmer of something unreadable in her eyes, a smoldering, fathomless rage.

When he blinked a second and third time, the man's tall figure was gone.

Though whether or not it was stemmed towards Ollie Brennan or something else entirely due to the difficult nature of his and Molly's conversation surrounding lycanthropy, Mr. Fortescue did not have the time to ponder it at all.

Florean furrowed his brows in a frown and continued staring at the window, thinking what he was seeing surely had to be a trick of the sunlight.

Norah Jameson's sky-blue eyes widened in shock as she had to crane her neck to look at the article, having to strain her wolfish sight to read the words.

He huffed in frustration and turned back towards Molly, wanting to emphasize the seriousness of his point.

Mr. Fortescue grumbled under his breath as he reached over his shoulder and procured a two-day-old headline of _The Daily Prophet_ and folded the crinkled newspaper out in front of Mrs. Weasley, where the latest grisly attacks on the wizarding community had made the front page.

"Greyback's forces move west. They hit Godric's Hollow just last night, anyone who does not align with the man's twisted views is seen as an enemy. His latest victim was a little boy, no older than five—" Florean started, though he was violently interrupted as Norah snatched the paper out of his grip and her eyes scanned the words of the front-page article, her face growing rapidly paler as the seconds passed. "My dear?" he murmured, seeing the beads of sweat form on her brow.

"I—I h—have to go," she stammered, her face turning an interesting shade of green, and Molly thought the poor dear might be sick. Norah swallowed down hard, and her pale face crumpled. "Th—that boy…is my _son_ …" she croaked hoarsely, slamming down the newspaper roughly. Norah blinked back briny tears, trying to speak, but her throat hollowed and constricted, closing in on itself.

She moved her mouth soundlessly, searching for words of denial as her glistening blue orbs scanned key phrases of the article.

_Three-year-old boy…found dead…dead for days before a group of Aurors raiding the house found his remains buried under a floorboard… Jackson 'Jax' Bryce Jameson has no surviving kin._

She continued to read the article, searching for any evidence whichever journalist wrote this slanderous piece of trash just _had_ to be lying.

But she found none. Instead, as she lifted her chin and blearily tried to focus her gaze more than a few feet in front of her at Florean and Mrs. Weasley, their pitying, horrified gazes broke through the stone wall she'd built around herself, hardening her heart to keep people like Ollie Brennan out of her life.

The article did not lie. After a month of desperately searching, following up on dead-end leads, Greyback had struck his final killing blow and gone for her heart, where the Alpha knew would hurt her the most, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt, her son and husband were dead. _Murdered._

Norah's feet felt rooted to the floor of the parlor, standing in shocked silence, attempting to digest the truth that had been just shoved down her throat.

Norah's wolfish sight blurred, an invisible hand tightening to squeeze the very breath out of her lungs. The buildings of Diagon Alley outside the shop rose up around her, suddenly tall and intimidating, threatening to collapse in themselves.

Norah took a faltering step backward, making a beeline for her black leather jacket as she shrugged out of her employee robes, and slung her black purse strap over her shoulder.

"M—Mr. Fortescue, I—I'm sorry, b—but I—have to go. My Jax…"

She imagined her sweet husband and son, bound in iron-wrought chains, shackles, as Jax was dragged away from Wes, horrible visions of Greyback lunging for the little column of her three-year-old's throat. Norah reached out her hands to seize him but couldn't get to either one of them in her mind. In the same vision, she saw her husband, her Wes, screaming in despair and grief as Alpha made the distraught father watch the mauling and murdering of his boy.

Before Norah knew it, and before either Molly or Mr. Fortescue could protest her leaving, she was running, not trusting herself to Disapparate in her frantic, panicked state, for fear that she would Splinch herself.

Tears marred and stung at the corner of her vision, and her breaths came out raggedly, in shallow, distressed panting and gasping, her stomach churning until she thought she might get sick.

She careened around the corner of Fortescue's shop, heading for Knockturn Alley, nearly crashing into Ollie, who'd come to check on Norah, but did not stop to apologize, or much less give the man the time of day anymore.

The werewolf ran, not giving a damn about where she was heading. All she knew was that her lonely little world had stopped making sense five minutes ago.

Florean and Mrs. Weasley watched the blonde witch disappear, still hearing her echoing, haunting screams, howls of misery, echoing in Diagon Alley.

He frowned and looked towards Molly, who was painfully twisting her fingers together. He could tell that Mrs. Weasley wished they had stopped Norah.

"Go home, _Molly_ ," he repeated to the ginger-haired matronly witch again. "Talk to Tonks. Tell her what has happened. It may take a little while, but I'm confident she'll open up to you, in time. She's going to need you now more than ever with Greyback at large," he spat disgustedly at the mention of the wolf's name.

When Mrs. Weasley did not respond, Mr. Fortescue took that as his sign to continue, a grim and worried expression on his face as he wondered what would become of Norah in her emotionally distressed state upon hearing the shocking news her only child had just been murdered.

"Our time in this life is short. We must learn to make the most of what we are given. Don't let these dark times and uncertainties get the better of you. Whatever lies ahead, I know Mr. and Mrs. Lupin will be able to overcome anything. They've made it this far, haven't they? They're strong. Stronger than you think." He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"In time, they'll come to see just how much."


	17. To Accept His Help

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Her husband's letters to her came in short bursts. Tonks was sure Remus was writing to her every day when he could, but could only manage to send half of them, the ones he thought were better posed, listing why he had to leave her.

Tonks knew this because he had said as much in her last letter to her, and he had been gone now for almost two months. Tonks heaved a heavy sigh and stared at the windowpane as she lounged in her favorite armchair, the one she would nestle up with a blanket, a pillow, and a good book, and had done just that, but could not manage to focus her attention on her copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_.

'The Warlock's Hairy Heart' in particular was tugging at her heartstrings, thinking that how the story was quite similar to her and Remus's love. How Remus had foolishly believed he would never find himself capable of falling in love with a young witch one day, and he used his condition as a means of pushing people (particularly her) away and keeping her at arm's length.

His friends and family, though disappointed that he viewed himself in this light, and yet still hoping in time, Lupin would change, as a result, said and did nothing.

And then, she had quite literally tripped into his life, he had caught her fall in the hallway of Number 12, Grimmauld Place during her first night in the Order when she'd tripped over that stupid troll leg umbrella stand, and everything had changed.

He met his wife that day, though considering his leaving her while she was pregnant and still adjusting to life as a She-Wolf, was perhaps the lowest thing Remus could have ever done to her. Tonks knew this of Remus.

Much like the story Tonks had been fixated on in her copy of the book now resting open on her lap, she felt as though Lupin himself had been the one to plunge a dagger into her chest and ripped her heart out from within her, taking her heart with him when she left, but she could not fathom existence without him.

He—he was going to be a _father_ , for Merlin's sake! He had a new reason to fight and live for, and he wanted to go off after Greyback by himself?! It was unfathomable, why he had left her, and Tonks failed to understand why he had.

Tonks sighed in exasperation as she looked at the water droplets of the rain outside beginning to form like spots of glass against the water. Nearly two months, going on three, since he had left her that night following her firing from her job, trying to hide her tears as she stood out on their porch after Molly had left, the woods behind the edge of her house a sign of so many things to her, but no longer a future with her husband.

He had chosen his path. To leave her. Tonks had perhaps naively believed that once Lupin had left her to go after Fenrir Greyback on his own, that she could put her husband behind her. To close that chapter of her life and not look back, just as he had done with her when he had so coldly abandoned her and the baby growing within her.

Tonks flipped one of the pages of her book absentmindedly and pulled out the very first letter Remus had ever sent her, folded in two, and being used as a bookmark. His words had been composed with the finest of quill points, so clean and precise, she almost swore it could have been print. Tonks smiled slightly as she traced the ink on the piece of parchment paper with the pad of her index finger.

Of course, she couldn't stare at the words too long for fear her tears would ruin the parchment.

_Dora, how can I make you understand this is what's best…You must let me help you, darling, help us, and I can do this by taking on Greyback alone. I won't have you or our baby's lives in danger anymore, sweetheart. Please say something…anything, Dora…Talk to me, Tonks. Please._

Eloquent and polite, as the professor Tonks knew her husband to be, trying to make Tonks understand what he had told her the night he had left her, that it was for the best, in order to protect her life and that of their unborn child's. Tonks stared at the words on the letter blankly before folding it back into two and setting it back its place and slammed her copy of her book tightly shut.

A true Gryffindor through and through, Remus wanted to think of himself as his wife's hero by leaving them, but he wasn't. He was a blind, bloody _coward_.

He was no hero. Peering outside the window, Tonks saw a flash of black dart by the wooden fence that outlined their home, and she frowned, her brows furrowed. _Our home_ , she thought. Now, it no longer felt like home with him gone.

Strange… and yet, Tonks remained, hoping that soon, he would return.

_That monster…who could ever love a man like that_?

Tonks flinched as her own mother's words pierced her longing, yearning thoughts, and she startled, like a cold bucket of water had been thrown on top of her head, causing her to sit upright in her armchair, wide-eyed and unblinking as she stared into the fire. Andromeda Tonks had spat those words as if they were poison that had settled and lingered upon her tongue, shortly after Tonks had dropped the ball that Remus had left her alone while pregnant, and had been dismissive of Remus and his actions.

She jumped in her chair as the doorbell rang, echoing loudly. Much to Tonks's annoyance. She groaned and rolled her eyes.

"For Merlin's sake!" she exploded hoarsely, uncrossing her legs, and slamming her copy of her book down on the small wooden night table next to her armchair, rising from her seat and walking numbly towards the front door of their cottage.

The others, Molly and Arthur, and even her best friend, Ollie Brennan, a man older than her by a few years but she had met him during Auror Training when the Borgin and Burkes co-owner had given a presentation once to the recruits identifying the signs of Cursed objects with Dark Magic and what to look for, and the two of them had hit it off during a lunch break and became friends, had warned her while Remus was gone not to open the door for anyone else.

"Who is it?" she growled flatly, only serving whoever was behind the other side of her front door thinly veiled curiosity, not in the mood for visitors.

Her best friend Ollie's voice, sounding deep and thick and curtly annoyed with her, came from the other side of the door.

"Are you really gonna make me say it, Tonks?"

Tonks felt her almond-shaped gray eyes widen in shock and surprise. She'd hardly spoken to Ollie since Remus had left two months ago, and she had expected to hear her best mate hammering on the Merlin-damned door every couple of days, wanting to check on her and see how she was faring without him, just as he had done before his departure, but he had barely stopped by at all.

_Before he left_ …it felt like an eternity. In her melancholy surrounding Remus's abandonment of her, Tonks had almost forgotten Ollie even existed, honestly, and had since coming to the assumption he had moved on with his life.

The last time he had stopped by her cottage to chat over a cup of hot Earl Grey tea, Tonks had been surprised to learn he was now pursuing Norah Jameson, who she had not heard a word from for the last two weeks since Molly Weasley had stopped by and announced that Norah's husband and son were murdered by Fenrir Greyback.

A pang of pity and sympathy wracked her entire body, and it sent a chill down Tonks's spine as she wondered whether or not Remus would survive alone. She had initially disapproved of this news, thinking it was _way_ too soon for Ollie to be going after Norah, considering she'd just lost her husband and son, but he had not seemed interested in hearing it, so Tonks was forced to let it drop.

"What do you want, Ol?" Tonks asked, attempting to sound nonplussed but she knew she was ultimately coming across as apprehensive and reluctant to let him in her house, though Tonks found herself opening the door, nonetheless.

Tonks lifted her chin slightly and forced herself to look into Ollie's bright blue eyes, sickeningly Prince Charming blue, and was surprised to see him flinch away in antagonized hurt at how harsh and unwelcoming his friend's voice was.

"I was just passing by," Ollie started, somewhat awkwardly as he fidgeted with a loose string that was coming undone on his black woolen robes, which was awkward considering her friend, on a good day, was smooth as silk with that languid tongue of his, "and I…er…well, I—I saw you through the window, T, and heard you. I—I promise I wasn't bloody spying on you or anything like that, but it looked like you were crying and miserable, so I wanted to come to check on you."

Tonks felt a light pink blush speckling along her cheeks as she lifted her eyebrows, for a moment at a total loss for how she was supposed to react to this.

"Um, th—that's kind of you, Ollie," she murmured, giving her friend, the former Slytherin, a quick once-over and noticed how exceptionally nervous he looked, twisting his fingers together and weaving them in between his knuckles.

His short thick tuft of black hair was wild and in a state of disarray, clumps sticking up this way and that, and the dark circles underneath his eyes were purple and prominent, clinging to the skin underneath his lids. He'd not slept.

She knew he'd been looking for Norah for the better part of a week since her husband and son's deaths. Ollie wouldn't come out and admit it to Tonks, but she was able to put the pieces together to sense the two had a history together.

Tonks swallowed down hard past the lump in her throat and continued. "But ah," she continued as she grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut at how horribly, painfully awkward this all was, "I'm all right, Ol. Any sign of Norah?"

Tonks knew just by looking at him, the way he flinched and the hurt expression on his face, the brimming, unshed moisture in his eyes, he hadn't.

"No," he said hoarsely, and a muscle in his jaw and behind his eye twitched. Desiring to turn the conversation in a different direction away from the young blonde werewolf and his friend, and something of a not-so-secret crush, he coughed once to clear his throat and continued. "I know you've not been yourself, T, since… _he_ left," he murmured, his own blush deepening at the truly awkward turn their one-sided conversation had taken. "I know you don't want to speak to me of what's bothering you, but please know I _know_ what Remus _is_."

Tonks had been about to turn on her heel and slam the door in Ollie's face, knowing her friend would forgive her for her abrupt rudeness, but then her friend exclaimed for her to wait, a pleading look in his shining bright blue eyes.

Ollie must have somehow sensed he had gotten Tonks's attention. "Your husband has always been selfish, T, whether you want to hear this or not. He threw you away, Tonks, just as _she_ threw _me_ away," he growled, that muscle in his jaw twitching and becoming more prominent as his blue eyes clouded over.

No doubt he was thinking of Norah.

"You got too close, created too strong a bond for him to handle, just as Norah and I had once," he snarled, no semblance of warmth in his tones anymore. "He severed it, and _she_ did too. These _werewolves_ are not like normal humans and as a consequence, they think themselves unclean, unworthy of our love, and they keep themselves at a distance. It's in their blood, Tonks, it's what Remus and Norah. Cold-blooded creatures. Tonks, you might not want to talk to me about what happened the night that he left you, but if you ever feel like it, just know that you can be honest with me. I _know_ what Remus is, what Norah is, just as you do. You're not _stupid_ ," Ollie growled, fixing Tonks with a pointed stare, and the bitterness seeping into his tones was unmistakable. Tonks merely gaped. "Don't feel ashamed to have been _tricked_ by them, T. They are, after all, _werewolves_."

Tonks blinked owlishly at the poisonous words laced to the brim with bitterness that seeped out of her best mate's mouth, unable to believe what she was hearing, thinking it had to stem from the bitterness of sevral years of his crush Norah rejecting his advances when they had attended Hogwarts together and as she closed the door in Ollie's face without so much as a goodbye to him, Tonks rested her back against the doorway, hearing Ollie's heavy footsteps step down off the front of her and Remus's front porch, and with the loud, deafening _crack_! of the familiar sound of her friend Disappearing off her property, once more leaving her cottage alone in the heavy, desolate silence.

* * *

The world around her turned into a blur, and so did all the sounds. The taste. The smell. Everything for Norah was just… _gone_. She paused, trying to hold back the strange feelings rumbling inside her, but she just could not contain it.

A lone tear traced down her cheek and just like that, the floodgates opened as she had Disapparated to the roof of the Ministry of Magic itself, this hellish place. So many tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face.

Norah had always been so self-conscious when she cried, but up here on the roof of the Ministry, she allowed herself to give way to the enormity of her grief. She sobbed into her hands and the wretched, salty liquid dripped between her fingers, raining down onto her black t-shirt and blue jeans. They were _dead_.

The young blonde werewolf cried until no more tears came, but still, the emptiness and sorrow remained. Dusk fell. On the first light of the day, her still crouched figure remained unmoved, her knees wrapped up close to her chest.

There was nothing left, nobody left, no reason for her to move at all, really. And what was even worse, the article in _The Daily Prophet_ had not mentioned her, yet another final blow dealt to her by the corrupt Aurors that sided with the Dark Lord. She wondered how many Galleons it had taken to bribe the editors of The Daily Prophet not to disclose the full truth that she was alive.

Her sweet Jax, and her Wes, _taken_ from her. Norah sank to her knees, not caring about the grit that dug into her knees. Norah was noisy, her skin blotched, but there was no one there to witness it, let alone to comfort her over her loss.

If she were of a mind to, she could run a mile, Disapparate in any direction, and not find another soul that gave a damn about her in downtown London. _Except_ … she thought through gritted teeth, squeezing her eyes shut.

_Ollie_. Just the mention of the young co-manager of Borgin and Burkes was enough to plaster as a quiet vibration underneath her skin and she shivered. _No_.

Norah forced her reeling mind to grind to a fucking halt. She would _not_ think of him. She—she _could_ not.

She had said goodbye to Ollie Brennan his last day of Hogwarts before he had gotten expelled in his seventh year, shortly before his graduation for an accident involving herself and another student who was tormenting Wes at the time, and the fault had been Norah's, how she had gone after the boy in question at the time, though Ollie had stepped in and taken the blame for what had happened, and as a consequence of covering for her, he had promptly been expelled.

Norah gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut, as visions of the handsome man's face flitting through her tormented, fragile mind.

The day Brennan had covered for her and had been expelled, Norah had forced that chapter of her life to come to an end, and she had married Wes instead, not only because she genuinely loved Wes and did care for him, but he had been like her. Also, a Wolf, and she was not about to impose that on Brennan.

No. She wouldn't, and she could never. Even as Norah swore to leave Ollie back at Hogwarts, in the past, having to pass by Borgin and Burkes every day on her way to Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor, where she would consider herself lucky the man didn't fire her in the next two days, given how she'd run off like that, she had to look into the shop window and see his face, it hurt her.

He was her window to the past, a past she would now sooner rather than later forget, and Norah heard herself sigh in an unrestrained fashion. It didn't matter now, anyway. Ollie would never accept her for what she was. A She-Wolf.

Norah had seen the way Ollie had looked at her in Fortescue's shop. It was in those brilliant blue eyes. A cold, heavy distrust hiding his pain at her rejection. Wouldn't take her back, not even as a friend. He'd be a fool to. _No_. Norah shook her head, unable to believe she was even entertaining the idea of seeking out her friend to help her take down Greyback. She was going to fucking _kill_ him.

The need for revenge was like a rat gnawing at Norah's heartbroken soul, relentless, unceasing, it could only be stopped by the cold steel of a rat trap, a trap Norah would devise herself. Her need for revenge against Fenrir Greyback was like an abscess on the skin of the soul that could only be cured by the cruel sharp steel point of revenge.

Festering like a septic wound, and the only effective antibiotic was cold hard revenge. Savage. Spiteful. A dish best served cold. Unforgiving. She would bear a grudge until she died or took revenge, whichever came first. Settling old scores. Brutal. Callous. Satisfying. Empty. Pointless. Excessive. Mean spirited. It appealed to her twisted and dark sense of humor.

Norah ground her teeth, balling her shaking hands into fists, and let out a hiss as she felt a single tear trickle its way down her cheek, stifling a loud scream.

Seven hells, but the man wouldn't even want to be her friend after the shit he had endured for her prior to his expulsion at school, and Norah could not give the man what he had wanted in return. Norah knew she was in an endless loop of pain when she had woken up this morning and realized she was truly dead.

Dead and buried, forgotten by those who were dear and close to her, but alive and kicking to strangers, people who didn't give a damn about her life.

She knew she would forever be in pain when she would wake up in the morning with a jolt, to an emotionless face of someone who would tell her nothing but to go out and kill, as Greyback had once, to take another person's life, to let the She-Wolf within her out, or hers would be taken in more painful ways than she could ever imagine.

Norah scoffed, and angrily flicked away the last of her tears with a well-practiced flick of her finger, thinking tears were no stranger to her in her now otherwise hellish life.

It had been two weeks since she had gotten the news of her husband and son's deaths, and she felt so drained. Hopeless. Heartless.

Norah startled, feeling her blue eyes go wide and round with shock, letting out a half-choked sob of anguish and drew in a hitched breath, a relatively poor attempt to calm herself, wondering how she was alive.

Could you lose your humanity in a single moment? Or could she get it back in an instant? Was humanity something that could leave a person forever? Norah knew that as a werewolf, she herself was _hardly_ human, and therefore one to talk over mediating over this particular topic. Did she still even have any humanity left? Did she still even _have_ a soul?

She had been human once before Greyback had Turned her into a being like him. Maybe she had blocked out all of her humanity the day she became a fully-fledged werewolf so she could taste the only thing she now craved against Greyback: sweet revenge.

If she had ever been human after Turning into a She-Wolf, Norah knew she had lost the right to be called that by title. A human stopped being human when a human loses its humanity, and it had taken Norah Jameson, widow to Wes Bryce Jameson, and mother of her deceased son, Jax Jameson, exactly five minutes a few weeks ago following learning the deaths of her husband and son.

A loud, startling _crack_! materialized on top of the roof behind her, eliciting a startled shriek from Norah, who immediately shoved her white-boned knuckles into her mouth and biting down hard to keep from screaming again.

Norah stifled a groan as she slowly opened her tired eyes, seeing the visions, tear-filled though they were, clear from a slow blur and she sighed again.

"Ollie," she murmured lowly under her breath, not even having to look behind her to feel the tall man's presence as the man stood towering over her.

"Norah," Ollie growled by way of response, sounding thoroughly put off, though Norah could detect the faintest hint of concern laced through his tones. "I've been looking for you. When you didn't show to work today, I thought, maybe, Mr. Fortescue might have…" His voice cracked and he trailed off, swallowing hard past a lump in his throat, and his next words seem to come to him with great difficulty. "I—I'm so sorry to hear about Wes and Jax, Norah."

_No, you're not_ , Norah thought venomously, her molars grinding angrily.

It had been there for a while now, this anger, escaping when she was away from those she loved, but in this case, those she loved had been ripped from her.

Her knuckles were white from clenching her fists too hard and gritted teeth from the effort to remain silent, her curled-in form exuding an animosity that was like a lethal poison—burning, slicing, and potent. Her face was white with suppressed rage, and when Ollie even knelt to set a finger on her shoulder, she swung around, bolted to her feet, and mentally snapped, finally losing it.

When Norah turned and their eyes met, the coals on her light blue eyes were added with fuel spurned on by her friend's unwanted arrival on the rooftop.

She bared her slightly sharpened incisors and growled.

" **LEAVE ME ALONE**!" Norah screamed, and in three rapid steps, without even feeling the need to draw her wand from her back jeans pocket, Ollie Brennan felt the outraged palm that cracked against his face as the blonde wolf backhanded him.

Ollie promptly backed away from Norah, but firmly planted his feet on the ground and did not falter. His jaw stung from where she had hit him and his left eye retracted in blinding pain, filling the rims of his eyes with stinging, hurt tears.

Her sharp, dark purple painted nails had scratched at the surface of his lips and he swore he tasted blood as he sharply turned his head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood. It hurt like hell. Ollie felt his eyes fling wide open in shock and anger at what Norah had done. In all the years of their friendship, she had never once laid a hand against him like this in violence, not even during that Time of the month when she would transform into the She-Wolf he knew her as.

Norah did not flinch or shirk away, not even as Ollie's temper surged within his chest, sending a spiraling warmth throughout his entire system, coursing through his bloodstream, igniting it and boiling it hotter than dragon fire, and Norah awaited his open and furious fist, for Ollie to retaliate against her.

Though something brimming with Norah Jameson's bright, sky-blue eyes stopped him, and he froze, his father's inherited temper getting the better of him. His trembling hand remained frozen in mid-air as Ollie looked down his nose at the young blonde werewolf who was only two years older than he was.

Ollie felt his pale face become twisted and tarnished with rancor, but he felt the worst of his anger begin to slowly dissipate at the sight of Norah's hollowed gaze. He could feel the thrumming of his heartbeats against his chest.

Norah's cracked and very-nearly bleeding lips were parted, and her eyes glistening with unshed tears that refused to come, and Ollie knew her tears were spent mourning the loss of her husband and her son, and she pierced his own eyes without even knowing the effect that she had on him. None at all, damn it.

Ollie saw not Norah staring back at him, but another sight below. He had seen the same blank stare adhered to his mother and then on Tonks earlier today when he had stopped by her and Lupin's cottage to check on his other best friend.

Remus's absence had affected Tonks more than she cared to admit, and the dull, almost sedated face absolutely trashed with a thousand minutes of physiological and physical agony at her husband's absence was wrought on her face, so much so that Ollie could not stand it.

Her devastated gray eyes awaiting death like it was a much better option than to stay cooped up in her cottage, not knowing if her husband would return to her, and now, he saw the exact same look in Norah Jameson's eyes, and Ollie was quick to decide he did not like it.

He withdrew his hand and promptly lowered it, feeling the beads of sweat beginning on his browbone, and trickling down his temples. "Come on," he murmured, outstretching his hand for him to take. He heard Norah let out a hiss.

Ollie sighed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Nor, I _promise_. I don't…want anything from you, Norah. Swear."

"Don't _touch_ me, Ollie," Norah growled as she swatted his hand away and clutched at her middle, shivering in the cold night air. "Just go away," she spoke in an angry, shaking voice as she blinked back a fresh onset of briny, salty tears. "I'm _done_ with this. You win, all right? You want me, you—you've got me, Ol, but I certainly don't need you acting like you're my—my knight in shining armor here because you're _not_. We're both adults. My husband is _dead_ , and so is my son and I…." Her voice cracked and dipped as her resolve faltered. "I—I don't want to be alone," she whispered hoarsely, a light pink blush spreading on her cheeks as she ducked her head, not wanting Brennan to see her in such a state.

Ollie had never his old friend look so entirely defeated and devastated as she did right now, and however angry Norah might be with him now, he was not about to leave his friend alone on this rooftop to freeze and starve herself to death, or worse, just allow herself to slip right off the ledge and plummet to the street below, where a Muggle car would hit her and claim her life and end this.

"Norah, _please_ ," he begged, hating hearing the hint of rancor and annoyance in his tones, though he swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and continued. "I—I honestly _don't_ want anything from you, Jameson. I—I was worried about you, that's why I came looking for you. Come home with me, Nor."

Ollie cringed as the words tumbled unchecked from his lips, knowing immediately how they sounded, and he was right. Norah's head whiplashed sharply upwards as her face reddened in anger as she processed his words to her.

_Damn_ , he thought, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, already imagining her lips parting slightly open to speak, and this would usually be the part where she'd start cussing him out, throwing in a good German insult or two, call him a Trottel or even worse, a verdammter Idiot (though admittedly, his personal favorite, as Norah had an adorable way of scrunching up her nose whenever she was angry with him.)

But it didn't come. Norah remained silent, and Ollie's eyes flung wide open, and he almost wished he hadn't, as the young blonde witch and werewolf was looking up at him with narrowed eyes, a look of skepticism on her pale face.

"I—I can't let you stay out here by yourself," Ollie told her with a frown. He knew his one-sided infatuation with Norah wasn't usually compromised of any other emotions beyond rage at her constantly rejecting him, and lust for her.

He desired her, yes, but more than that, he loved her. Truly, and he didn't give a damn what society would think about the two of them. Though he was not about to take advantage of Jameson in her emotionally compromised state now.

He could not do that to her, however easy it might be to take her home, seduce her and bed her, and claim her for himself, but he did not want her that way.

"Come back with me. I don't trust you to be on your own right now, Jameson. Look. I understand. I—I know that you're beyond pissed at what Greyback's done. I—I am too. I know you want revenge on him, but this is not the way, Nor. You don't' have a place to stay. Stay with me, Norah. Please. Just let me…bring you home and we'll decide what to do. We'll go after him together. I _promise_ , but you have to come back with me," he said, holding out his hand.

Ollie flinched, thinking a pause in her responding was nothing he could have ever hoped for, but he simply could not bear to leave his old friend alone out here on this wretched rooftop by herself.

Who knew what she would do to herself in her grief?! He shook his head to clear it, not wanting to think of it.

As much as he told himself that he was a terrible person, he knew it wasn't true. He would always care about Norah, whether or not she reciprocated his feelings in time or not, even if she didn't believe they should be in a relationship, he did not want Jameson facing any kind of danger or pain, because of Greyback.

The thought of her going after the werewolf alone, Disapparating and probably crying while trying to do it, and as a result, not thinking clearly in her mind of where she wanted to go, would throw her off her destination completely and more than likely cause the poor young blonde to Splinch herself, was enough to send poor Ollie into a full-fledged panic attack. He winced, waiting for her.

_No way_ , he thought through gritted teeth. _I'm going to look after you_.

"Okay," Norah finally agreed, her voice barely above a whisper, and she, with some trepidation and nervous apprehension took her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze, though she did not seem to entirely trust him just yet.

He could live with that. Ollie slowly nodded to himself. He had honestly been expecting Norah to try to hit him again or tell him to go fuck himself, but he was relieved she was, at last, accepting his support and taking him up on the offer to come and live with him, even though he'd hoped it was under different circumstances, and—

_No_! Ollie gave his head a curt nod to clear his mind. _Later_ …

Norah gave a light little shrug and tightened her grip on his arm, drawing in a sharp breath that pained her lungs as Ollie met her gaze, a solemn look in his eyes. Though he ordinarily, at least while Wes had been in the picture, was careful enough to keep his distance, he could not bring himself to leave her alone.

She was his drug, intoxicating, euphoric, and he could not get enough of it. Of her.

And like it or not, Norah needed someone to be with her while she allowed herself time to grieve over the deaths of her husband and son, and as far as she could tell, she had no one else in her life that could give her what she needed.

Except for him.

As he turned on the heel of his boot and Disapparated with Norah clutching onto his arm as they headed for his house, Ollie could only pray he wasn't making the biggest bloody mistake of his life by doing this for her.


	18. Numbered Days

**A/N: So, I remember a while ago now when the Deathly Hallows movie came out, all the girls were freaking the heck out over that one Snatcher who wore the plaid pants, the one that could smell Hermione's perfume, I don't think they ever gave the guy a name, but I thought it would be fun to feature him in this story for just a chapter, so for fic purposes, I'm calling him Laurent.  
**

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

Max Devereaux and his companion, Laurent, a Snatcher within Lord Voldemort's ranks stopped walking just a few paces away from The Hog's Head, a decrepit, shabby old tavern in Hogsmeade that you only dared set foot in if you were bloody desperate.

By the looks of the place, there wasn't much to make of it, to entertain, and the Death Eater and the Snatcher both pursed their lips into a thin line and stared grimly at the gruesome son of a bloodied hog's head depicted on the wooden sign above the door, which swayed haphazardly in the wind.

The Snatcher, Laurent, was beginning to immediately regret his decision to follow his friend to this shitty rathole that dared to call itself a bloody tavern.

If he could have had his way, which it should have been noted, he most certainly could not, given Max and the other Death Eaters were the ones in charge, Laurent would have turned on the heel of his boots and gone straight back into The Three Broomsticks as quickly as possible and flirted with Rosmerta. He would have had the bitch wrapped around his pinky too, had he not gotten the urgent message via Patronus from Max to meet him here ASAP.

Laurent bit the wall of his cheek and stifled a groan and repressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"Why the bloody hell have you dragged us all the way out here? Hell, The Three Broomsticks or even The Leaky Cauldron seems a better place to drink than….this _shithole_ ," he growled, as they began to walk again, passing by several cloaked figures huddled in a corner who shot the pair of them interested glances and proceeded to snigger behind their backs as they passed.

Laurent's fingers twitched, itching to dip into the pocket of his black leather trench coat and hex the whole lot of them, but even he knew better than to start a fight here. The last thing they needed was Aurors on their trail tonight.

Max shot the Snatcher a look though could have turned the man to stone had the Death Eater the ability, and he scowled, his dark brows coming together in a frown as he swiftly pocketed his wand. "You really gonna make me say it a _second_ time? How many times do I have to tell you? We gotta meet somewhere quiet, where we won't be overheard by that nosy _bitch_ Madame Rosmerta, boy."

"Yes, I know that, but you can't even tell me who the hell we're meeting?" Laurent barked, folding his arms across his chest, and almost stomping his foot.

He did not appreciate being talked down to as though he were a twelve-year-old-child. He was thirty-seven, a fucking _adult_ , for Merlin's damn sake! The Snatcher glanced down at his shoes and wiped the dirt off his boots on the welcome mat that rested at the front entryway, thinking it wouldn't bloody make much of a difference once they were inside, though he noticed Max did not.

"Never mind. You're gonna find out who our contact is soon enough," said Max in a somewhat hoarse voice as he slowly paced in the front entryway of the pub. Muted conversations from but a few patrons gathered in small tables in the corners swirled in a dirty cloud of smoke coming from a few customers' pipes.

The stagnant stench of tobacco hid within the collaboration of mephitic odors. A sharp smell of drink that Max and Laurent recognized as Fire Whisky flooded his nostrils, like black plumes billowing from the windows of a burning home. There was even a hint of sick tainting the fragrance of the room that caused Max and Laurent to crinkle his nose in disgust and pull a face.

Even _he_ was beginning to have second thoughts about coming here, and he was quite surprised, considering what little he knew of his contact, that they had agreed to come here, after all.

The tavern curved into the room, dark in the barely lit establishment. Through the windows, which were coated with grime and a thick layer of dust, trickled the sallow light of the streetlamps outside. The smell changed over the years. Max couldn't recall the last time he'd stepped foot in the Hog's Head.

It had, to the best of his knowledge, always been a den of debauchery, alcoholism, and the great unwashed of Hogsmeade. It still was, even to this day. No one came to the Hog's Head with anything _wholesome_ in mind.

The old bartender, a gnarled old man with an egregiously long and matted graying beard, who stood behind the dusty counter, merely proceeded to nod his head in a show of exhaustion as the pair of men passed by, the Death Eater and the Snatcher spotted their contact sitting stiffly, rigidly in one of the tavern's corners booth.

The wind and rain picked up outside, as the icy gray skies outside restlessly grumbled, and the thick blackened clouds were dragged down by the heavy rain. The sound of emptiness was disrupted by the loud egregious boom of thunder that caused the one or two lights that did happen to be lighted to flicker.

"You came," their contact said by way of greeting, lowering the hood of his thick black woolen traveling cloak, and Max stared.

He had always known Fenrir Greyback to be an imposing figure, a damning Wolf, though he had not expected the man to be quite so intimidating to this degree.

The smoke from various customers' pipes swirled around her figure, giving her almost a ghostly illusion, and for a brief second, Max and Laurent thought themselves rather mad. Max smiled, albeit without showing his teeth as he slid into the booth opposite Greyback, leaving Laurent to remain standing rather awkwardly with hands clasped behind his back, not sure at all what to do.

"Of course, I came, wolf," Max replied airily, though cautious to remind his tone around one of Lord Voldemort's top lieutenants within his ranks.

Max lifted his gaze and swiveled his head to the left and gave a curt wave of his hand to the bearded old man behind the counter, gesturing for either a Butterbeer or a Fire Whisky.

"After what had happened with the issue surrounding the _bitch_ …though if she wouldn't have put up such a fuss in the loo of The Leaky Cauldron, I'd have been able to take her for you then, I had assumed that you were no longer interested in associating with the…likes of me," he began.

"This is important. That little incident was merely a _test_. I told you Lyall Lupin's boy's mate has _fight_ in her. She's a feisty little witch, and the fact that you underestimated her speaks volumes. Her mate was right to turn her into one of us. She's a hell of a She-Wolf, and nothing is going to stop me from getting what I want, and what I _want_ , is the _woman_. I want her to join our cause."

Fenrir's words escaped his hairy, burly chest in an animalistic snarl.

Greyback's rather relaxed and nonchalant manner bore such a striking contrast to the Death Eater's tense and rigid posture, that the Snatcher, Laurent, was beginning to feel nervous that a brawl would break out soon.

The wolf turned his yellowed and slightly red-rimmed eyes towards Laurent, who immediately shuddered as a tremor went down his spine, though the Snatcher hoped his eyes did not betray him, that his face was a mask of calm, even though it was all lies.

"Who's your 'friend', Max?" Fenrir barked.

"Laurent. A Snatcher," the handsome, rough-around-the-edges Death Eater said gruffly as if his friend were nothing more than a mere afterthought. "You don't need to worry about the kid. His lips are sealed, _wolf_ , but if he truly bothers you _that_ much, I can send him away," he began hesitantly, narrowing his eyes and glowering across the table at the burly werewolf opposite them.

But Fenrir Greyback raised a hairy hand that was in actuality more like a claw and cut the Death Eater off. "No need for that, boy. I trust your judgment. Though, I confess myself rather surprised you came. You couldn't even handle the bitch in the bathroom when it was just the two of you alone. It didn't exactly work out like you hoped it would, did it? I heard about Jameson."

Max stiffened at the mention of that blonde-haired elfin-like little _bitch_ who'd managed to get one over on him. He sneered, feeling the edges of his lips curling upwards to reveal his gums.

"I have you to thank for that, don't I, Fenrir?" he added, not bothering to stop the wry little smile from forming at the edges of his mouth as he grinned at Greyback. "You took care of her _for_ me, I saw it in the paper. Something tells me she won't be sticking her nose in your business anymore now that her fucking pathetic little _brat_ and her mate are dead at _your_ hands," he retorted hotly, bristling as images of the blonde witch and She-Wolf finding him and Remus Lupin's wife in the lavatory of The Leaky Cauldron flitted through the front of his mind and he silently seethed, shaking.

"Jameson had it coming from the very beginning. I warned the entire family when they came to me what would happen if they ever got into their blond little heads one day to flee. She _knew_ the penalty for desertion, and she _knows_ what will happen to her if she dares to set one _foot_ in my camps again," Fenrir growled, though one could not deny there was a hint of admiration in the burly werewolf's tone as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table.

Max swallowed, unnerved all of a sudden by the wolf's shift in countenance. There was a growing lump forming in his throat, hollowing, and constricting and suddenly, it felt as though it were becoming difficult to breathe.

Greyback, unfortunately, sensed the Death Eater's hesitation and sneered, causing Max to look away at the werewolf's unnaturally sharp, pointed canines.

"But you could not even manage to handle one woman even on your own." Greyback clucked his tongue and shook her head in mock disappointment, ignoring Max's flushed face of outrage. "You are…quite fortunate, however, boy, that I am a _patient_ man, and a _merciful_ man. I think there is but a way to solve our mutual problem and we both benefit from it. You will pledge to me your will, boy, here and now, and I guarantee you will go free. I have enough evidence against your attacks on all those Muggle women to put you behind bars in Azkaban for a long, long time," Greyback growled. "But if you help me get the girl, then I have no reason to run my mouth, boy. I swear it. Things are _difficult_ with this woman, she was an Auror for a number of years, and the fact that she is Lyall Lupin's boy's mate and pregnant with a little wolf-cub has not gone unnoticed by me," Greyback snapped as he glowered at the handsome man across the way and his companion, who was looking lost. "She is not so easily swayed by mere threats, which is why I believe that a softer approach, a more delicate touch, is required, hence why I have called you here because I know you seek to gain a place and status in the Dark Lord's ranks."

The Death Eater merely stared across the table at the werewolf coldly, his calculating mind working quickly to put together the pieces of information in his mind, to no doubt arrive at the conclusion that feared and reviled werewolf Fenrir Greyback was about to reach.

Greyback, sensing Max's mind going into overdrive, continued, lest the noble need further motivation to carry out his plan "I am certain it will not be a challenge for you, for the ladies tend to flock to you, do they not?" Greyback snorted, shaking his head in slight disbelief. "And this time, when you pay her a visit, you won't have Jameson in your way to stop you, of that I'm certain."

Max opened his mouth to retort, but Greyback interjected before Max could say his piece. "I do not care how it happens, or what becomes of her _cub_. If you think the She-Wolf will be a problem for you, feel free to rough her up a little bit, but make no mistake about this: I want her _alive_ and _unharmed_ ," he growled, slamming down his empty tankard of Fire Whiskey so hard the wood in the table cracked as he rose to leave, tossing a Galleon onto the dirtied and dusty table to pay for his drink.

"And you? What of you?" Max could not help but ask, as sensing the werewolf's growing tiredness, that their conversation was nearing its conclusion, as he rose to his feet and fastened his cloak about his shoulders, preparing to leave, scowling as he heard the Snatcher's shuffling footfalls behind him.

"What I am proposing is no easy feat, boy," snarled Greyback in a surprisingly smooth and languid tone, ignoring the Death Eater's question, thinking Max needed to mind his own business, instead of striding up from behind their table and coming over to the Death Eater, extending his hair hand for Death Eater Max Devereaux to take and shake it in agreement.

Max hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second, and took the wolf's hand. The Death Eater's cold, dark eyes met Greyback's steely orbs. "This 'little problem' as you like to call it, shall be dealt with, wolf. The bitch is yours."

Fenrir Greyback merely nodded, wearily rubbing his temples in exasperation as he escorted his guest towards the door to see himself out.

Max dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Until we meet again."

Something about the man's tone prompted Max to ask of the werewolf who he had entered in a reluctant partnership with a final question. He paused, a hand on the hinge of the doorway to steady himself, before pulling his black woolen cloak's hood up over his head and stepped out into the rain, his back still turned to the savage werewolf in front of him and he did not look at the man.

"What of the _wolf_? What will you do with the bitch once she's captured?"

Greyback frowned and fixed Max with a glacier-cold stare and felt his usual Cheshire-Cat like grin re-emerge, and Max, to his credit, did not flinch one ounce.

"The bitch may be a natural predator, a hunter with her abilities, but she never learned how to watch her back, which is a disadvantage for the werewolf, for she should soon have a _knife_ there if she should decide to run that mouth of hers and dare to backtalk to me. If she behaves herself, the little cub growing inside her belly will live. If not, I'll cut the worm out and feed it to the rest of our pack. But if she _cooperates_ , she'll be one of my finest new lieutenants I could ask for. Jameson needs a replacement after all."

And with that, the werewolf, departed, leaving Max to mull over what his future held and what his next steps should be. He decided that he no longer gave a damn, as long as the deed in question was done.

He should have killed the _wolf_ months ago when he'd had the chance and save himself this unnecessary strife. Max knew he had no other choice. He would put an end to things before they escalated even further.

And as for the She-Wolf, the bitch who had denied him in The Leaky Cauldron, for Miss Tonks, well…if he had his way with her, and he usually almost always did, then Max took that to assume that her days were limited.

Her time was almost up.


	19. Animosity and Tension

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

Night had since fallen over the Wolves Woods, and from his tent's entrance, he could see fleeting visions of his newest recruit's wife in his mind, for reasons he could not quite comprehend. Lyall Lupin's boy had joined their ranks a few months ago and had proven himself most useful.

Though it was images of his newly-turned wife, a She-Wolf if the rumors were to be believed that currently held his interest. The bitch was a small thing and bore a striking resemblance to his wife, Rena Lestrange.

Different color hair. Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin's hair was a light ash brown, Rena's was darker. And different color eyes, besides, but other than that, the resemblance was almost uncanny. Doppelgangers of sorts.

She was a tiny little witch, Remus Lupin's wife, and yet Max Devereaux and the Snatcher, Laurent, that he had met a few nights ago in the Hog's Head tavern had told him the _bitch_ had put up one hell of a night when they paid her a house call in the middle of the night. This fact caused an impotent rage and a restlessness to burn in the pits of his churning stomach and boiled his blood hotter than any dragon fire could ever flame.

The little bitch might have bought herself and the little wolf cub growing inside of her some time, though now she found herself his prisoner, and if Remus Lupin's wife wanted to prove to Fenrir and the rest of his tribe that she wasn't stupid than she had better—

_Daddy, look at the stars_! Fenrir let out a low rumbling growl from the back of his chest as his head whiplashed sharply upward to see who had spoken, blinking away the wretched tears that had threatened to escape his lids, and he gnashed his sharpened canines together as a low, animalistic whine threatened to escape his lips.

_No_. He'd _die_ before he'd hear himself whimper. Fenrir looked down and through his vision that had blurred and hazed at the edges, he could have sworn he saw Collin's bright hazel eyes like his mother's looking up at him, his tiny fingers no bigger than a Bowtruckle pointing to the sky. Their precious little wolf-cub had always loved looking at the stars.

"My son…" Fenrir reached out, kneeling slightly to try to touch the back of his son's head, when the sound of approaching footsteps broke him out of his mesmerized trance, causing the hallucination of his son to vanish before his very eyes.

He straightened his stance and let out a growl. The tent flapped opened, fluttering in the wind and there Greyback stood, as silent as the shadow thirty-two-year-old Rena Lestrange knew her mate to be. Her nostrils flared and twitched as she inhaled the scent of old pinewood and what smelled like old Fire Whiskey on Greyback's breath.

She could not smell the need that he was itching to rectify his more carnal urges, but that didn't mean Lestrange didn't know how to set her husband in the mood, as the witch knew where to touch the wolf, what to say, what to do in order to entice the werewolf's baser and carnal desires.

Out of all the bitches, she was his favorite, why he had married her, and why they had sired Collin together. At the thought of her deceased son, her heartstrings gave a painful little lurch, and she froze for a moment, faltering in her decision and Rena had forgotten why the hell she had come here.

Rena took all of Fenrir in, with his back facing her, his face staring out at the edge of the Wolves' Woods.

Her husband was grim and tense, and when he spoke to her, seemingly not knowing it was her, Fenrir's voice was rough and coarse, sounding much like a wooden crate that had been scraped against the cobblestone streets of the old Knockturn Alley itself.

"You have exactly one minute to tell me why you are here, or I'll have you ripped to pieces with my own _teeth_ ," Fenrir snarled, spinning on his heels, only to see Rena now standing unmoved directly behind him, then.

Rena Lestrange stared unblinkingly into her husband's eyes, her light hazel eyes blazing with a smoldering, fathomless rage he had never seen before. Her hands were balled into fists at her side, wand in her hand, as if she intended to raise the weapon against him at any given moment in time.

"Is it true that you've captured Remus Lupin's wife? Is the _bitch_ really pregnant with her own little wolf cub?" Rena demanded, causing Fenrir to become surprised. He did not know which unnerved him more.

Her appearance in his tent at this late hour or the fact that she was up by herself. "Rena," he started to say, though the brunette beauty held up a hand and promptly cut him off.

"Is. It. True? They say our Alpha has gone soft, letting the She-Wolf keep her cub." His mate growled through gritted teeth, eyes flashing, to which she received a low wolfish growl from her mate. Her husband never liked it when the women in his camps took such a tone with their Alpha.

"Yes. Max and that Snatcher managed to capture her. Lyall Lupin's son is still putting up a resistance. The boy is not being honest with us. He lies in terms of where his allegiances truly lie," Greyback growled angrily, balling his claws into fists at his sides. "He needs to be put in line. I know just the way to do that." He saw no point in lying to his wife. "I'll break her." But Rena remained unconvinced.

"And her cub? What of the cub?" she demanded hotly as her right arm snaked around his neck, pulling him down. "Would you kill that too? Why should the bitch be allowed to keep her cub when ours did not even make it to his fifth birthday?" she growled. Rena felt her jaw grip tightly as her lips pressed into a thin line as she saw something shift within Fenrir's yellowed eyes.

When he did not answer, she took that to mean her Alpha was going soft and intended to let the babe within Remus Lupin's bitch live. She silently seethed, bristling. " _Why_?" she demanded hotly. "You would truly let hers _live_?! Letting that cub _live_ won't bring _ours_ back."

Insecurity and envy began to spread through Rena Lestrange's veins, and she stared with parted lips at the rejection in her husband's eyes that taunted her as she was quick to recognize Fenrir was now somewhere far away and done with her. "You think that bitch is _pretty_ , don't you?" Rena breathed, looking at him in wait.

It was a question Rena never could help whenever Fenrir would set eyes on a new She-Wolf that joined their clan. Witches that she could not help but brand as bitches, whores. She hated pretty girls, women like Norah, and Violent, and now Nymphadora.

Even more, so that it was rumored the little bitch was said to look like her if she were to believe the slanderous lies Max and that Snatcher of hers were spreading throughout the camps since they had escorted Tonks here.

Rena heard Fenrir let out a tense exhale through his flaring nostrils with his tongue bitten between his teeth hard enough to draw blood. "She's going to be one of our top spies, Rena. The information she possesses in her mind is invaluable to our cause. She was an Auror in the Ministry. That typically involves looking at her from time to time. And other things, Ren."

She froze as she heard her mate's annoyance in his baritone voice. Their newest prisoner was rumored to be everything that Rena was said to hate. Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin was younger than her by four or five years, everything Rena Lestrange detested. Remus Lupin's wife was a diamond. And Rena bloody _hated_ diamonds, she hated them so much she was willing to bury this diamond deep within the earth of the Wolves Wood if it meant she didn't have to look upon the girl's face that was said to resemble hers.

Making a mental note to visit their prisoner's tent tonight to see her for herself, she stifled a growl of her own and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

Rena Lestrange bottled her thoughts of revenge on their newest pretty little She-Wolf, wondering just what it was that Fenrir had planned for Lupin and his pretty little wife, and she froze when he spoke to her again.

"Leave. _Go_. If _anyone_ is going to die for our son's death, it will not be you, Rena," Fenrir growled, turning his back on her, signaling to his wife this was an end to their conversation. His voice almost cracked and broke.

Rena shrugged her shoulders in defeat and stifled a growl of her own. She turned on the heel of her boots and stopped, brushing her hand against his shoulder, and picked at something tugged on it, internally screaming as she plucked a lock of light ash brown hair belonging to _her_.

Fenrir's mate stared at the lock of Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin's hair between her fingers, its light ash color screaming against her ivory skin.

"I hope this new _bitch_ of yours is worth it. _Alpha_ ," she taunted, rolling her eyes, and stomping on the earthen ground as she left Greyback's tent.

Unbeknownst to her, he was thinking the same thought.

_I hope so too_.

* * *

The new She-Wolf, Remus John Lupin's wife, Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, was brought to Greyback's encampments in the dead of night by one of Lord Voldemort's Death Eater's, one Rena Lestrange recognized once she laid eyes upon the man and put a face to his name, a nice enough chap named Max Devereaux. Good looking too, enough to make her go weak at the knees in another life if she weren't already illegally married to Greyback. Dark-hair, bright green eyes burning bright with anger and ire.

For a moment, as Rena Lestrange allowed her sharp hazel eyes to ghost over the features of the werewolf's bitch, she thought for certain she was looking at herself and was about to chastise Max and his best mate, a Snatcher by the name of Laurent, for what kind of twisted prank _was_ this?

The girl looked remarkably like her.

So much, in fact, that Rena had momentarily become convinced that her mind was playing a sport of her eyes, or that one of them had somehow managed to swipe a lock of her hair and had transfigured this witch by means of Polyjuice Potion, maybe.

But then, Rena Lestrange looked again. Lighter color hair, a light ash brown color, but just as wavy as hers.

A similar facial structure, but as the young witch's head was firmly cupped in the Snatcher's hand and tilted upward, when the woman blearily lifted her eyes to stare at Rena wide-eyed and horrified with those listless gray orbs of hers, red-rimmed and cracked at the irises, no doubt from crying and lack of sleep, she felt herself relax.

_Not at all like me, then_ , Rena thought, emanating an exhale of relief. She had heard the stories of this little bitch from Bellatrix, her second cousin.

The witch married to Remus Lupin had not let herself get captured without a fight, at the very least, Rena was pleased to see, as she gave a curt nod to the Death Eater who had brought her in, who proceeded to haul the pregnant witch upright by her arm and drag her towards the tent where they kept their prisoners, though now it would currently only house her.

Rena let an hour or two pass by before going to see their newest plaything, her hold on the basin she had brought with her currently tucked underneath her arm to tend to her wounds, tightening with excitement.

She wanted to see her distant relation squirm in her company, to see Mrs. Lupin's face marred with teeth from the other wolves guarding her.

The dark-haired beauty and mate to Fenrir Greyback was smiling to herself, baring her teeth as the heels of her black boots crunched on twig and leaf underfoot as she approached the red tent.

_Let me see your face, pretty little She-Wolf_ , she thought, grinding her molars together in anticipation. _Let me see it_.

Rena had not liked how Fenrir Greyback had eyed the bitch when the Death Eater and Snatcher had first brought Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin to them per the man's request. Her wicked, gleeful smile instantly fell when she recognized the flap to their prisoners' tents was propped wide open, a sight before her which suggested to Lestrange someone had been there before her.

And no one had cause to visit the bitch save for her own mate. Rena felt her blood within her veins curdle and she ground her teeth as she shoved the other tent flap open and ducked into the cramped space. Their prisoner was chained to a bed, her bruised wrists bound by a pair of manacles, with protective enchantments within the barriers to prevent the witch from escaping and her wand had been stripped from her upon arrival and broken into two halves when she had been presented to Fenrir.

Both Fenrir and Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin looked at Rena, swiveling their heads in her general direction and Rena Lestrange could not hide her frown as she looked upon her distant familial relation, silently seething.

The rumors weren't true at all. Her face had not been mauled at all, Merlin's left nutsack, she was going to bloody _murder_ whoever started it! Mrs. Lupin's pale, heart-shaped face was as lovely as ever, save for a purple-reddish bruise on her right cheek, and a small cut on her left browbone that would probably scar, as well as at the corner of her lips.

Yet, the witch was still as lovely as a sunrise, and Rena did not bother to stamp down the hot feelings of jealousy raging war within the pit of her stomach, her nostrils flaring even at the thought of Fenrir looking at her.

The two of them were still looking at her, with Alpha's eyes waiting for his mate's explanation as to what the hell Rena Lestrange was doing here.

"I'm here to tend her wounds, Alpha," Rena sighed, begrudgingly, not bothering to keep the hint of jealousy from lacing throughout her tones.

_Lies, lies, and you know it_ , her conscience taunted. The only reason she had come here was to mock Remus Lupin's pregnant wife. The man himself was an outcast in their tribe, and Rena was surprised that he had not yet learned the truth that his wife was now a captive in their camps.

But her Alpha and mate had forbidden word to circulate in that regard, and Rena could only surmise that Greyback had some scheme in mind. Her blood curdled within her veins like milk with lemon, and Rena was tempted to find Max and that Snatcher and kill them where they stood for this.

_Those rumors_ , she thought angrily through gnashing, snarling teeth. _Why did they have to exaggerate a few minor cuts and bruises_?

"Max had made mention she was fevered, so I've brought warm water and medicines to dab away at the heat on her skin and tend those nasty looking bruises."

Fenrir made an odd little noise that sounded like a sniff of disapproval as his nostrils flared as he regarded his mate before turning back to Tonks.

The Alpha of his tribe stared at Remus Lupin's wife, his eyes a muddling of slight disbelief and assurance that Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin would be their newest addition to their tribe, providing that the girl cooperated.

"You will be well treated here provided you answer all of our questions as soon as you are feeling better, Mrs. Lupin," Fenrir answered in a voice dripping with false concern for her. "I _apologize_ for my colleagues' rough treatment of you. Rest assured that was _not_ supposed to happen," he growled, shooting a venomous look towards the outside of his tent, where both Fenrir and Rena knew the Death Eater and the Snatcher were, waiting to receive their Galleons for the completed task of bringing Remus Lupin's mate alive to them. He let out a haggard sigh and started to turn away. "Let my wife, Rena, take care of anything that you need, my dear…"

Rena felt her entire body seize and stiffen as she flinched with loathing and hatred for this bitch, bound in chains though the She-Wolf was, she knew tonight was a full moon and she prayed to Merlin above this was her first transformation without the aid of a Wolfsbane Potion to help soothe.

But Merlin's Beard, she hoped it _hurt_.

Fenrir turned on his heels, but Tonks's voice crept up, as soft and as soothing as silk, and Rena's ears perked up at the noise, and she was unaware of her head slowly swiveling in the young witch's direction. "When will I be permitted to see Remus?" Her voice was weak and meek, sounding on the brink of defeat, and Rena was pleased to see Lupin's wife's gray eyes moisten and glittered.

Fenrir Greyback cocked his head to the side and plainly looked at Lupin's mate without any semblance of warmth or sentiment in his eyes. Sensing his animosity, Tonks swallowed hard and continued. " _Please_ …"

Fenrir briefly looked away as he headed towards the tent's exit, and in almost a split second without hesitation, he answered their new captive. " _Soon_. In a few days, my dear, if all goes well according to your questioning," he answered. "You should _rest_ , Mrs. Lupin," he said, and without so much as another word to either her or Rena, he turned his back on the pair of witches and quit the scene, leaving Rena alone with Tonks.

She could tell by the growing look of rancor in the young witch's pale gray orbs that the bitch had no intention of spilling her precious kept secrets to Fenrir, or anyone else for that matter, and Rena let out a sigh.

Rena ground her teeth in anger, narrowing her eyes before forcing her facial muscles to relax, the tension leaving her, and turning back towards Tonks, seeing a fierce antagonism burning bright as a smoldering rage that flared as Nymphadora bit on her bottom lip as it stuck out in a little pout.

She breathed in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, shifting the little wooden bowl under her arms, and walked resentfully towards the stiff cot that they had given Tonks, eyeing the swell of her stomach in hatred.

"I'm _sorry_ to have to come to you at such a _late_ hour, Mrs. Lupin," Rena said in what she hoped was a disarming, apologetic tone. "The trauma those boys must have put you through when they brought you to us must be _exhausting_ ," she offered, glancing back over her shoulder as she waved her wand, conjuring a small wooden table upon which Rena placed the basin. Her voice was smooth and benign, despite her entire body itching to point her wand squarely at the bitch's chest and kill the witch herself.

She made a show of waving her wand as the tin flagon of water hovered in midair and poured itself into the wooden basin as she dipped the rag into the hot water and rung it out, all the while, her fellow She-Wolf stayed silent.

Soon, only the sound of water droplets filled the awkward silence between the pair of witches and werewolves as she soaked and squeezed the rag. Turning around, plastering a false smile onto her face that she hoped was convincing, she perched herself at the edge of the bedside and gently dabbed the hot cloth onto Nymphadora Tonks Lupin's right cheek.

"Oh," she whispered, drawing in a breath of honey-sweet, false concern as her gaze lingered, settling on the nasty purple looking bruise on her right cheek. "That's a _shame_." She clucked her tongue in mock disappointment. "Doesn't it hurt? That?" Rena moved to touch the edge of the purple mark, though missed as Tonks quickly jerked her head away and hissed.

"It's _fine_ , please don't _touch_ me," the She-Wolf snarled, reaching up a hand and Rena felt a surge of sick satisfaction at hearing the chains rattle.

Rena felt like a fool as her hand was left hanging in midair. She cursed under her breath and rested her hands in her lap, looking down at it instead. "What was your name again?" Rena heard Mrs. Lupin ask her.

"Rena Lestrange, Nymphadora, in case Fenrir did not tell you who I am," she sighed. "You and I are related in some way, I guess, Mrs. Lupin, but don't worry." She let a high-pitched little giggle escape her lips as she tossed her dark wavy locks over her shoulders. "You're still _pretty_. You have to get used to it anyway, so you might as well hear me out, Tonks."

The small pained gasp of surprise and the look of shock and anger on Tonks's face as her face paled as she frowned with furrowed brows was almost worth it. "What?" she asked, thinking perhaps she had misheard.

Rena bit the inside wall of her cheek. "Why, being called beautiful of course," she grinned, raising her brows in alarm at Remus Lupin's wife.

She tampered down the urge to laugh, knowing that she couldn't. Tonks merely proceed to stare at her before turning her head sharply away in a frustrated exhale, and she could almost see the girl's aura turning crimson.

As she did so, Rena Lestrange glowered at her distant relative, her gaze wandering and settled over the younger woman's swollen stomach, feeling her blood curdle within her veins. It looked as though she were due any day now, and she could not believe Fenrir was even _entertaining_ the idea of allowing this miserable little bitch to keep her wretched little wolf cub.

The silence screamed between the pair of witches, and finally, Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin broke the heavy silence with a question.

"How long have you loved Greyback, Rena?" she asked, fixing Rena with a pointed stare as their newest prisoner slowly lifted her chin and regarded her distant familial relation with a look of pity in her eyes.

Rena felt her jaw drop, feeling grateful she had turned away for a moment, feeling her heart begin to burst in an uncontrollable throbbing. She had been about to turn around on the heel of her boot and hex the woman where she rested on her bed, chained to the four-post bed as it was for daring to ask a personal question. Of course, she bloody loved Fenrir!

But the witch did not stop with her line of questioning, which in Rena's mind, felt like a personal attack against her. "I _see_ the way he _looks_ at me," Tonks growled with a shudder as a cold chill wafted down her spine that both women knew had nothing to do with the breeze that wafted through the open flap of the tent. "Rest assured, I want nothing to _do_ with him."

Rena had no response to that. _Good_ , she thought through gritted teeth, bearing her fangs, and stifling a low growl, recognizing the possessive feeling coursing as hot as dragon fire through her veins. _Stay away from him._

Rena Lestrange was disturbed when Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin turned away from her, ducking her head so a tumble of her light ash brown curls fell in front of her line of sight like a curtain, effectively shielding Rena from her view.

"You may tell your Alpha I will answer his questions," she spat angrily, whisper hissing her words through gritted teeth, her voice so faint, Rena almost thought she hadn't spoken at all and had to lean forward in other to hear her. "But I want to see Remus first. Tell him."

Fenrir's mate gave a curt little nod of her head, thinking their prisoner need not repeat her request. Even before she could, Fenrir's wife found herself storming out of the tent to go inform Alpha of her change of mind.

The sooner this _bitch_ and her little wolf cub were out of her life, the better.


	20. An Unexpected Reunion

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

Remus was not entirely sure how much more of this he could take, now that he had successfully infiltrated Fenrir Greyback's camps, with the very werewolf who had turned him when he was only five years old accepting him as one of his own kind. He had spun a half-truth tale of 'polite' wizard society rejecting him, effectively shunning him, and forcing him into exile.

He neglected to mention the details of his pregnant wife at home, thinking it was safer for Dora as the days dragged into weeks, and then months away from Wales, from all that he cared about. From Tonks, though it did not stop the ache, and as a result, Lupin had begun spending increasingly more frequent amounts of time in the camps by himself, not talking to the other wolves, though not that they showed an interest in him.

For he bore the unmistakable signs of having tried to live amongst the humans, a fact which they did not take kindly to at all, and as such, he spent most of his solitude writing letters home to Dora, though he sent only half. The ones he thought were better well put, at least. Remus tried to convince himself that leaving Tonks had been the right thing for both her and their baby.

He would return to her, one day, when it was safe to do so. It had been a few months since that fateful night of the most painful choice in his life, but it still burned in the confines of his chest like yesterday. The memory of the pained look in his wife's eyes, how badly he had hurt her that pained him the most.

The unbearable aching whelm in his chest refused to part from him whenever thoughts of his wife crossed his mind. Which, it should be noted, was nearly constant now. He saw Tonks in his dreams. He saw her when he woke, even a few times, smelt her on the sheets and his clothes.

Though they had been parted now for Merlin only knew how long, Tonks was always with him, and the only peace of mind that he could assuage himself was the knowledge that his leaving Tonks back in the relative safety of their cottage, surrounded by fellow Order members that would look after his wife while he attempted to take care of Greyback, was what was best for Tonks. Dora would be well looked after in his absence.

Though he had not intended to make Dora hate him for leaving, he supposed that, when he returned, he shouldn't be surprised if that were the case. It had been the only way he could ensure her and their baby's safety. He knew that if he had let her come with him, she would have gone if he had asked her to, and he was not about to have Tonks suffer anymore on his account.

Now that she was a She-Wolf, because of him and his carelessness, Remus firmly believed Tonks had suffered more than enough.

His heart nearly plummeted to the pit of his churning stomach at the thought of what Fenrir Greyback and his mate, a Lestrange, a young woman who bore a striking resemblance to Dora's Aunt Bellatrix, would do if Tonks were to have captured the werewolves' attentions, he did not like to think.

They would have her join their cause, or worse. Kill her. And Greyback would have made Lupin watch. No. He shuddered, thinking it was the final act of kindness he could do for his wife aside from returning in time to be present for the birth of their son if he could help it. Many times, more than once now, he wished for nothing more that he could disregard Professor Dumbledore's orders and abandon this assignment and turn right around on the heel of his shoe and go home.

He wished for nothing more than to Disapparate from this barren, desolate campsite deep in what Greyback and the other wolves called their Wolves' Woods, in the southeast corner of the Forest of Dean, though he had heard rumors of another encampment deep in the Forbidden Forest.

To Disapparate and appear on their front porch and grovel at Dora's feet for her to take him back, to apologize to his wife for leaving and vowing never to leave her side again, and to be there for their unborn baby. But he understood that as long as Greyback was alive, it was impossible. As long as the wretched wolf still drew in a breath and he was not by his side, then Tonks and their child would never truly be safe. He had _made_ his choice, and these were the consequences of it.

Lupin heaved a tired groan as he ducked underneath the flat of a makeshift tent, the Alpha's, to appear at Greyback's side, fully prepared to tell the wolf whatever lie he would have to in order to keep Nymphadora safe, and he had resigned himself to the fact that the protection gives his wife and their baby afforded by his extended absence was the only thing he had left to give, what he hoped was the greatest act of love for the witch he loved.

Though within the first week of him being accepted by Fenrir, Lupin quickly realized that it was simply not enough. He needed to do more. He moved to stand next to Rena Lestrange, ignoring the way the witch instinctively stiffened as their shoulders almost touched, hating how the woman reminded him so much of Dora, though with different color eyes. Rena Lestrange's were a piercing hazel color, not gray like Tonks's.

Lupin allowed his mind to wander to thoughts of his wife while he stood side by side next to Lestrange, the pair of them acting as guards for Fenrir Greyback while he conducted a meeting with a pair of his scouts. It was becoming increasingly difficult as the days passed to hide his fixation on that of his wife, and even more difficult for him to veil his contempt and disgust for the werewolf he had pledged false allegiance to. Suddenly, Greyback's baritone, a listless voice startled the former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor out of thoughts of his wife.

"What news is there of the Hogwarts' castle's defenses?" growled Greyback towards a figure shrouded in a black cloak, one of his spies, though Remus gave a start and drew in a sharp breath at his last place of employment where he had been genuinely truly happy, at least until Snape let it slip that he was a werewolf and his teaching career came to an end.

"Impenetrable, Alpha, as we suspected. It would take more than two or three of us to breach the castle's walls, though we suspect that the Malfoy boy is almost finished with repairs to the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement. We could slip in through the one in Borgin and Burkes," the figure offered, still keeping the hood of their cloak raised.

Greyback nodded. "Is that all?" he questioned, his tone almost too curious, which ultimately spelled trouble. Lupin's ears perked up as the tent fell silent and a thick, uncomfortable tension flooded the air around them.

"There is one matter of business which I believe you would find intriguing, Alpha." The figure turned towards Remus, and though the man could not make out any details of the stranger's face, he did not need the man to lower the hood of his cloak to see the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Your precious little She-Wolf has _disappeared_ , Mr. Lupin."

Remus felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach and a warm feeling began to spread rapidly throughout his chest as he swore he tasted bile. He started to take a faltering step forward, though he could tell by the way that both Fenrir Greyback and his mate, Rena Lestrange, instinctively stiffened at the movement how the action would be viewed by them both. Lupin swallowed down hard past the growing lump in his throat, forcing himself to remain steady on legs that he felt could barely stand as if he had been hit with a Jelly Legs Curse. He felt the fingers of his wand hand latch onto the handle of his wand as if it could bear the brunt of his weight. He tried his hardest not to shiver with gritted teeth as the witch's voice rang in his throbbing eardrums.

"Oh, no!" Rena Lestrange exclaimed with mock concern. "She was _pregnant_ , wasn't she? What a _pity_ , Remus! To lose both wife and child must truly be devastating," Rena Lestrange was a beautiful woman who would have otherwise had the face of an angel if her lips would ever break further apart.

The edge was pushed up, scrunching her one hazel eye up, making the brown appear almost black. Her luscious, full lips parted a centimeter, making it seductive to many. Yet the faked smile on her pristine face made the witch and werewolf's mate appear entirely too arrogant, like any Lestrange woman.

She clucked her tongue in false disappointment, her tone mocking. Rena's mouth pursed into a thin line as her eyebrows rose in waiting, apparently to see how he would react to this news.

He shook with the effort to restrain himself, almost letting out a wolfish growl in the process. Rena slowly swiveled her head and turned back towards their spy. "Tell us how this happened," she murmured, almost sounding a bit too concerned, Lupin noticed, drawing in a breath that pained his lungs.

"A pair of Death Eaters, mum. Don't know their names or I woulda already said. A fortnight ago, I think," the cloaked informant continued. "We've searched your house, Mr. Lupin. No sign of her. She was a skilled witch, put up one hell of a fight. You'd be proud."

Remus could feel Rena Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback's collective stares practically burning a hole into the side of his skull as he forced himself to breathe, having almost forgotten how for a moment. His jaw clenched and locked up tighter than rigor mortis, his fists balling into knots by his side.

All he wanted was to Disapparate from these damned woods, and head back for home as soon as he could to start searching for Dora. Lupin, however, dared not make a move.

He didn't want to risk blowing his cover and upending everything these last few weeks he had worked hard to achieve, gaining Greyback's favor, able to send monthly reports to the rest of the Order when able about the wolves' activities. He could not allow the Alpha or the Lestrange woman to notice any indication that his heart was a terrified, throbbing corded muscle within the confines of his chest that felt like it was going to give out on him any second now.

The only indication that he was still alive was the sound of it pounding in his ears, and he felt it thrum within his chest. He needed no mirror to see that he was as pale as a ghost. His mind felt like it was reeling, churning with intense fear and questions he needed the answers to.

What had happened? Was Dora still alive? Was their baby safe? Where was she? Had she been captured? Was she injured? He wanted to scream and start seizing on tufts of his hair, but he knew he had to maintain a sense of calmness.

The animosity of not knowing the truth, and that this was all his fault, if only he had stayed, changed him, causing his blood to boil within his veins, surging through him at an uncontrollable pace, and he was sure the tension was wrought on his face as he felt the skin of his brow pulled tight as he frowned. Lupin felt the beads of sweat form on his forehead and start to drip down his temple. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to leave.

_Now_. Before he compromised himself and ruined everything. "Excuse me, I—I need to leave," he growled, not even bothering to use proper edict to address Greyback by his preferred title of Alpha, turning on his heel to leave, when his mate shot out an arm and gripped onto his forearm tightly.

"Oh, Mr. Lupin, no," Rena Lestrange protested in a sarcastic voice oozing with false concern. "You can't leave _now_. You'll miss the _surprise_." The witch's pseudo-sweetness caused bitter bile to settle on Lupin's tongue and made him want to vomit, the way she cooed at him.

"What?" Remus barked, hardening his facial expressions and the edges of his voice as well, glancing at the Alpha's mate sideways out of the corner of his eye, wondering what unknown torture Greyback had planned for him now if this was meant as another 'test' to test his new allegiances. He was in no mood to be toyed with, though he could not stop the lurch of fear as the cloaked figure Rena and Greyback had been in the midst of questioning rose from his spot on the floor, where he had knelt on bended knee in front of the werewolf.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting as the cloaked figure promptly rose and turned his back on the group, exiting out of the tent just as another information, also in similar attire, brought forth a prisoner, chained, her wrists bound together by a pair of magically enchanted handcuffs, stripped of her wand, barefoot, her long gray dress tattered and torn, the sleeve of one of which had fallen loose, causing her right shoulder to become exposed as well as the prominent bones of her collarbones.

The prisoner was a female, short, of average height at around 5'3 on a good day, her light ash brown hair hanging like a curtain in front of her as her head was ducked. The captive writhed and screamed, growling, and snarling in the effort to get away, and the guard and said prisoner had only managed to get within a few feet of where Greyback and Rena Lestrange's chairs were positioned when Lupin's heart plummeted to the pit of his churning stomach and what little color was left in his face drained.

The hostage in the cloaked man's grasp was Dora, and she was heavily pregnant with their baby. Remus froze, unable to form a coherent thought.

He stared straight ahead of him, unable to take his gaze off that of his wife's as she struggled and fought, as much as her current physical condition would allow her to, though it was not enough to free her from the man who held her forearm, his fingers wound around her bruised skin so hard that Lupin swore he heard Tonks let out a little whimper of pain. Her angry and terrified snarls filled the tent and practically tore his heart into a thousand fragments.

This had been the real reason that Tonks had not been able to be found. Dora had been held captive here in Greyback's encampments, right under his nose the entire time. Greyback and his mate, Rena, had kept his wife prisoner here as she carried his child. He knew Fenrir Greyback was a cruel werewolf, but he had never imagined that he would stoop so low as to imprison one of his own kind, and yet, the proof was right in front of his wretched, wolfish sight.

Remus felt as though he couldn't bloody breathe, his jaw hanging open in shock, he turned fuming, fathomless smoldering eyes towards Rena Lestrange and realized that this was exactly what Greyback's mate had planned all along.

Rena smirked, turning her head towards Remus coldly to regard him, and the vengeful sneer on the brunette's face chilled the blood in his veins to ice. "You are truly _pathetic_ , Mr. Lupin. Did you really believe the Alpha and I did not know that your precious mate was now one of us? We've spies everywhere, darling. Nothing happens in Great Britain that we don't _know_ about, particularly when it pertains to _werewolves_ ," Rena growled angrily.

Lupin's face drained of all colors as he recognized that Rena Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback meant to carry out their threat, the very threat that had propelled him to leave Tonks safely behind back at their home in Wales.

Or so he had thought. Greyback's plan was to kill his wife and baby and leave him as a witness, and he had no time to feel his heart plummet to the pit of his churning stomach at the sight of his captive wife, nor to feel it warm at the thought that she looked as though she were due with their baby any given day right about now. His widened, fearful eyes rested on Tonks's pale features.

His wife, ever the strong and resilient She-Wolf he knew her to be, resisted fighting as the Death Eater of Lord Voldemort's dragged her further into the tent and forced her to a kneeling position on her knees, a difficult position considering how heavily pregnant Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin was.

He swore he heard Dora let out a whimper as, unable to fight the man holding her arm hostage, she blearily lifted her chin and his heartstrings gave a pitiful lurch as he recognized her face held the same expression of dread that Remus's did. It was as if Dora knew what was about to happen and had been anticipating it. Her eyes drifted to the left and settled on Remus's, his fingers of his wand hand curled around his wand, ready to defend his wife to the death.

Though before Remus could even think about taking a half-step forward to run to his wife's side, two more Death Eaters materialized out of thin air and rushed ahead, halting Lupin's attempts to reach his wife by pointing the tips of their wands at the column of his throat. He felt the growl leave his lips before he could stop it as he memorized every detail of the man's face who had just forcefully shoved _his_ wife to his knees. He'd not live to see another sunrise.

Tonks remained to kneel on her knees, though not without difficulty, a hand resting on the swell of her stomach, trying to calm the rushed movement that the exertion of her fall had caused to her and Remus's baby. She let out a groan though she held Rena Lestrange's and Fenrir Greyback's stares angrily.

If Dora was at all afraid of the werewolf and his mate, she gave away no hint of it in her face, though Remus swore she saw a muscle in her jaw twitch.

For a brief moment, Lupin's pride at how proud he was of his wife burst in his chest. Despite months, Merlin only knew how long, Tonks had lived in captivity as a prisoner under Greyback's command, and existing at an unfathomable amount of pain and abuse that he did not even want to imagine, there was still a fiery pride within his lovely wife's soul, the essence of her heart.

Lupin knew Tonks would fight to the end to protect their baby. So, would he, though it was then that he realized that Dora adamantly refused to meet his gaze, and Rena Lestrange interrupted his thoughts, not giving him time to address his wife. "Ah. Mrs. Lupin," Rena grinned rather mockingly. "How good of you to join your husband within our ranks, dear," she smirked with a rather wicked flourish as her gaze flitted towards Fenrir for confirmation.

Rena Lestrange clucked her tongue and turned back towards Tonks, whose already pale face had drained of all colors, rendering her pallid, peaky.

"Aye, but don't think me unsympathetic to your plight, Mrs. Lupin," Rena remarked to Tonks with a horrible sense of mocking compassion. "I remember all too well what it was like being so far along with my own child."

A look of shock and anger flitted across Lestrange's face as she blanched, pursing her lips into a thin line, raking her fingers along with the armrests of her chair.

"You look as if you might bring forth your little wolf cub any day now," Rena sighed, disinterested, as she looked at Tonks's round form, and then grinned at the couple as though she had just gotten a truly inspired idea. "Oh, but I know. Why don't Fenrir and I do you a favor, since you're so new to our ranks, darling, and what if we… _relieved_ you of your heavy burden, my dear?"

Tonks's pale gray orbs grew wide and round, and she tightened her grip around her stomach. She shook her head vehemently in horror and attempted to scramble away, finally moving towards Remus. "NO!" she begged, sobbing.

That was the breaking point of Remus's calm demeanor, what little of it he had possessed left to begin with as he heard himself growl in anger, more than the wolf within him ever could. He could stand here as a witness no longer. He'd kill every last one of them or die himself before allowing Dora one split second more of anguish. These Death Eaters and other werewolves were going to have to murder him to stop him, and in his current mood, they had better _hope_ they killed him. Blood filled his eyes, his wolfish sight seeing nothing but red, his only purpose was getting Dora, himself, and their baby to safety.

Quicker than he thought possible, Lupin drew his wand against the men currently holding him at bay and with a simple flick of his wrist, removed the wand hands of both, and before either man had time to scream, he moved his hand again, and this time, blood poured from their throats. The Wolf was taking control now, this savage, merciless creature, but Remus didn't care.

They fell away, lifeless, their blood staining the earthen floor beneath their bodies. With one move forward, he seized a tuft of Rena Lestrange's dark hair and grasped her by the waist, holding her close to him with his left arm.

He pressed the tip of his wand to the column of her throat with his right hand. She was going to have to act as the human shield for Dora and their baby.

"Order them off of her!" Remus demanded of Rena and Greyback. Greyback, for his part, remained silent, eyeing Lupin challengingly with narrowed eyes. He pressed his wand tighter to Greyback's mate's throat. "Now. Get them to let go of her and release her, or I'll slit your throat, Lestrange…."

As he lifted his gaze towards Fenrir, not even sparing Rena Lestrange a second glance, he could tell in the taller werewolf's narrowed eyes that he had just made a very grave mistake.

A very big mistake, indeed…


	21. To Flee This Place

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

Lupin let out a low warning growl as he looked into Fenrir Greyback's narrowed yellow eyes, hoping that his eyes did not betray his true feelings of terror that pricked at his heartstrings. " _Order them away from my wife_ ," he growled threateningly, digging the tip of his wand deeper into Rena's throat.

"Stop!" Rena croaked hoarsely towards the pair of Death Eaters and werewolves, the tip of Remus's wand beginning to tear at her flesh the harder he pressed into it. " _Stop_!" she shouted in a much stronger voice a second time.

"You're making a mistake, _dog_ ," Greyback growled listlessly, though he made no move to intervene as Lupin pulled Rena away from Fenrir's side and dragged her out of the tent. He brought his attention to the pair of Death Eaters holding Dora hostage. "Move away from her," Greyback barked at last to his comrades, who stood firmly in place, uncertain if they heard him correctly.

Remus growled, the edges of his lips curling upwards, and pressed the tip of his wand deep enough into the column of Rena Lestrange's throat that he heard the She-Wolf gasp, afraid that taking in another breath would incite his anger further, causing the werewolf to make good on his promise to hurt her.

His hatred that laced as hot dragon fire through his veins for Greyback and his mate was like a vexing of the soul for what he felt wasn't human. It was twisted and distorted but something strong. It burned bad as fire lacing his veins and creeping up his spine. Lupin's skin was a sore looking red in his anger, but all he could feel towards Greyback and Lestrange was the desire to hate them.

He was intoxicating with emotion he had no intention of feeling, the acidity of it all was residing in the pit of his churning, nauseous stomach, waiting to be spat out of his mouth in foul and vulgar words that Dora would surely stare at him for saying, except that he wasn't going to say them at all.

He was going to scream them with every ounce of breath in his lungs.

"Move away or your Alpha's mate's blood will stain this ground," he growled, watching as Rena gave her husband's men a motionless affirmative, understanding that Remus Lupin was not a man who merely made idle threats.

Still grasping tightly in an ironclad grip around Rena Lestrange's waist, Lupin turned his efforts towards the pair of Death Eaters. He found the one who had violently shoved Tonks to the ground and with one fluid flick of his wand slit the man's throat before the Death Eater had time to raise his own wand against either Remus or Dora, much to Nymphadora's utter chagrin.

The man would bleed to his death slowly, aware of his demise and powerless to do a damned thing to stop it from happening. Tonks's face turned an interesting shade of green as she crawled haphazardly out of Lupin's way, as he summoned the Wolf's strength within and allowed that beast to take over, taking on all of the guards with his arm still clamped around Rena's for insurance.

They rushed Remus, and yet his anger and fervor met each of their pitiful attempts at defending their Alpha and Greyback's mate. He could not afford to lose. He brandished his wand as though the weapon were part of him, dispatching the group of men easily with a few fluid flicks of his wrist.

There was a damned good reason Remus held one of the master dueling trophies with his name proudly plastered across the trophy back at Hogwarts.

"Let go of me, you foul, loathsome dog! Let _go_!" Rena snarled through snapping teeth, terrified of the dozens of hexes and jinxes, flashing red and green lights that thrashed around her in such close proximity. He ignored her.

Finally, the campground around them stood empty all but the four of them. Lupin pocketed his wand in an interior pocket of his brown jacket and switched his ironclad grip back to Rena's head, seizing a fistful of her brown hair and tugged her forward so hard that he heard the werewolf yelp in pain.

Each time the witch squirmed, Lupin's grip tightened even more, threatening to scalp the girl if she so much as made a move he did not like. Remus knelt in front of his wife, reaching out with his free arm for Dora to take. His heart gave a painful spasm as Dora looked at him with immense distrust as Tonks shirked away from his grasp and let out a surprised cry.

Something was wrong. Something more than just him leaving her. He silently vowed to find out later what had stolen away from her faith in him as her husband, but for now, the only thing that mattered was getting her out of here.

"Please, sweetheart," Remus whispered, hating hearing how his voice cracked and faltered. "We have to go, Dora. I—I'm here, love. I'm not going anywhere," he told her softly. "Please, darling. Let me _help_ you," he begged.

It was these foreign feelings of apprehension and fear that kept Tonks firmly rooted to her spot on the ground, too shellshocked to move a muscle.

His wife sat for a moment of uncertainty and hesitation that shattered Remus's already fragile heart into a thousand more untold number of pieces.

Lupin wanted nothing more than to take Dora into his arms and Disapparate with his heavily pregnant wife to a place of safety, but considering that a couple of Death Eaters had already ransacked their cottage once, he didn't know where else he could take Dora away that would be safe. He was not about to bring her back home to her parents' house, or to the Burrow, and risk the danger of Greyback's followers pursuing them and putting their friends and family in danger, but he knew that if they did not leave, then they would die.

However, Remus also knew that at nine months pregnant, Tonks was incredibly fragile, and her delicate condition was not only physically, but emotionally as well. He recognized that he'd dealt her an unforgivable blow by abandoning her for Greyback's camps, and it would take time for her to trust him. He could only hope that one day, his wife would find it within her heart to forgive him for what he had done because Merlin knew he didn't forgive himself.

No matter what happened, Lupin needed to be careful around Tonks.

" _Please_." He beseeched her again. "Our baby's life depends on it, love."

It seemed to be enough to finally elicit a response from his wife, who quickly nodded. She needed security, armed with the knowledge that Remus was not about to up and abandon his wife and unborn child for a second time.

She made up her mind at this moment to try to depend on her husband now as Remus had done with her, even if Tonks knew she'd regret this later.

Tonks bit the wall of her cheek as she reached up with a shaking hand and latched her fingers around Remus's forearm, trembling violently, as he lifted her to his feet, one hand wrapping firmly around her waist as he did so. The young witch and former Auror was no fool.

She knew she needed to find a way out of this mess, and right now, the very man whom she had married, and the very one who had betrayed her, broken his vow to always be by her side no matter what, seemed like her and her baby's best shot at survival.

Her heart secretly thrilled to have Remus so close to her again, that he was managing to save her life, but she could not forget what Rena Lestrange had told her a few days ago while trapped in the tent where they housed their prisoners, that Remus had abandoned her because he was ashamed of Tonks.

Tonks would leave with Remus, she quickly decided, but she wasn't about to be so merciful to her husband and welcome him back with open arms.

Lupin was careful to be gentle with his wife, settling Dora as she stood, albeit with difficulty, on shaking legs, one hand resting on the swell of her swollen stomach. For a moment, he simply drank in the sight of his wife alive and well, thanking Merlin and his mother above that his wife was relatively safe.

He did not hesitate to wrap his arm around Dora's waist and walked as quickly as he could into the forest and away from Fenrir Greyback's territories.

Tonks was tucked safely in his strong and slightly wolfish grasp, and all the while Rena Lestrange thrashed helplessly beside him, growling, and snarling like the barbaric and savage werewolf that Remus knew Fenrir's mate to be.

Remus knew that with each step the group took, he was risking their capture. But Lupin remained desperate to get Tonks out of these woods as quickly as possible. He could not help but eye his wife out of the corner of his peripherals as they made their escape, watching for any signs of physical distress.

Her breaths came in short, spurting gasps as their quickened pace and her physical condition made the path through the woods rather difficult to traverse.

She was too far advanced to walk to safety, and that was much slower, besides. In no condition to ride even as a passenger as a broom. No. Their only shot at escape was if he took her along via Side-Along Apparition. The only way. Every step they took deeper and deeper into the woods was agony for her.

When Remus felt confident they were deep enough into the Wolves' Woods without being followed, Lupin allowed his ironclad grip on Rena Lestrange to relinquish, though not before dipping into the pockets of her dress and groping for her wand, snapping the weapon into two and letting the pieces fall at her feet. He pulled Rena around to face him without giving the witch a chance to respond. His normally kind light brown eyes were seething with a rage that neither woman had ever seen there before, and it frightened them.

"This entire time you've held my wife captive." His entire body wracked with the shakes, poisonous venom dripping from his words as he addressed Fenrir Greyback's mate. "You looked me in the eye and lied to my face. You were going to kill them both in front of me," Remus rasped hoarsely, hardly daring to believe the cruelty the woman in front of him was willing to inflict.

His anger getting the better of him, he seized Rena Lestrange by the face, his fingers digging into her skin as he cupped her chin strongly in his palm and turned to face Tonks.

" _Look at her_ ," he growled in a low, wolfish snarl, as Tonks stood in an unspoken, silent fear in front of the pair of them, waiting. "I was a _fool_ ever to leave you, Dora," he whispered, hating hearing the faltering crack and dip of his voice as he felt the beginnings of hot tears marring his sight.

"He'll come for you both," Rena snarled, attempting to incite further anger into the werewolves that now held her captive, hating the turn of events.

"Shut. Up!" Remus glowered at Lestrange, his voice a steady stream of pure hatred as he brought his wand down and gave it a sharp wave, sending a nonverbal jinx squarely towards Rena Lestrange's chest, knocking her to the ground. Tonks let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden violence and jumped backward as Fenrir Greyback's mate crumpled unconsciously to the ground.

He turned towards Tonks, not wanting to linger on the fear that rested within his wife's pale gray orbs, pocketing his wand, and holding out his left hand for her to take. "Come." He pleaded as Lupin took hold of Dora's hand and led her towards the edge of the woods and into the sunshine, stepping coldly over Rena Lestrange's crumpled form in the process, growling at her.

Remus felt a chill waft down his spine as he witnessed poor Tonks cringing and raising her hands to shield her face from the blinding light of the sun, and he had not realized that his poor wife had spent the last several months locked away in a dark tent, the bright rays not a sight she'd experienced in a long time. He swore her heard his She-Wolf let out a low mournful whimper.

Tonks stood mutely beside Remus as she allowed her husband to take her by the hand and lead her towards the edge of the Wolves' Woods, to safety.

Her eyes slowly adjusted to the blinding white light around them, her mind reeling from not only coming so close to the brink of death itself but also the exchange that she had just witnessed between Remus and Rena Lestrange.

She had spent so long as a prisoner of Fenrir Greyback and his mate that she was unsure of how to feel, especially about Remus. He had left her, after all. All she knew in this moment was that their baby was alive and unharmed, and she would do anything that was necessary in order to ensure her child's safety. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine that what Lestrange had told her last night when the witch had brought Tonks her dinner was a lie.

Tonks froze, pondering this thought in silence as she looked at Lupin out of the corner of her eyes. She knew that he really did love her, considering what unimaginable hell he had just gone through in order to save her life now.

But he had left her, and Tonks just wished more than anything, she could be sure of Remus's intentions, now that they had found each other again.

Her soft smile that had flitted across her features slid off her pale heart-shaped face like Stinksap, as quickly as it had come, it vanished. She blinked, forcing her mind to return to their present predicament as Lupin held out his hand for Dora to take. Tonks began to accept his hesitation, her lips parted open slightly to ask him where it was exactly that he planned to take her, but was stopped from this when a sharp, twisting pain contorted in her stomach.

Flinching and shirking away at the intensity of the contraction, clutching her abdomen as she doubled over in agony, Tonks tried to keep it inside and catch her breath, but it simply could not be found throughout her hazes of pain.

She wanted to scream and rebel against the physical torment of her own body but could only let a high-pitched cry of pain escape from her throat.

"Remus…help me," she whispered, hearing her voice crack and break, though her husband was at her side immediately before she even finished her sentence, bracing her against her harsh wave of pain. Feeling helpless, all Remus could do was offer her hand, which he was grateful and surprised that his wife accepted it. He had thought she'd want nothing to do with him after he left.

He squeezed her hand tightly until the painful spasmodic contraction had passed. After a few minutes of this, Tonks's muscles relaxed, and she was able to stand upright again. The couple looked at one another, worried, fearful of this.

Tonks was going into labor with their baby, and they had to get somewhere safe, somewhere where Greyback and his forces would not think to look for them. "Where—where are you taking me, Remus?" she gasped weakly. She cringed at how hoarse and grating her voice sounded, but then remembered she had spoken to almost no one in the course of several months.

Even she knew it was only a matter of time before Fenrir discovered Rena and sent someone after them. They had to get out of the Wolves Woods.

Tonks was in no shape to walk a great distance, not if her labor had started. Lupin hesitated, biting the wall of his cheek as he slowly turned to look at his wife.

"I—I don't know, sweetheart," he confessed, shooting her a pained gaze as he turned away, growling in frustration, and carding his hands through his hair in agitation. "We can't go back to our home. That's the first place they would look. I don't want to endanger Molly and Arthur at the Burrow, or your parents," he grumbled darkly under his breath, cursing himself for leaving her.

Tonks nodded in understanding, falling silent as she contemplated where to go. And then it hit her. Something that she had forgotten, but he'd promised her, that if she were ever in a spot, she could go to him for help, no questions asked, and no judgments made against her family.

It was time to accept his offer.

Tonks steeled herself, a muscle in her jaw twitching as she thought of the last time Ollie had shown up on her doorstep, the pair of them had almost erupted into an argument over his words against Remus and Norah, though Tonks knew at the time, he spoke from a broken heart.

"I know of a place we can go," Tonks whispered hoarsely, reaching out a trembling hand for Remus to take. "Ollie. We can go to Ollie's house."

If Remus was at all surprised by the nature of his wife's request, he hid his stunned shock well, and his grip around her forearm tightened as he held on as delicately as he could, pulling his wife close by the shoulder, not wanting to jostle her and hoping this brief Side-Along Apparition trip wouldn't hurt her.

"Do you feel ready, love?" Remus asked, glancing sideways out of the corner of his eyes at his wife, who, he was relieved to see, smiled briefly at him.

She nodded mutely, not saying anything. "Let's get out of here, Remus."

He did not need to be told a second time. Remus returned his wife's nod and closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath of frigid air of the Wolves Woods as he kept his eyes closed and filling his mind with visions of Ollie Brennan's house, turning on the heel of his shoes and Disapparating with Tonks at his side. He did not even have to think about where to take her. He knew.

His only wish was that Ollie would allow them into his home…


	22. Teddy Remus Lupin

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

Norah's pulse pounded in her ears the moment she and Ollie heard the loud all-too-familiar Disapparating _crack_! outside of Ollie's small cottage in Wales, not that far off from the Lupins' residence, maybe about five miles, give or take.

Considering what she knew of her old friend and now her boyfriend of little more than two months, though she had been living with him for nine, she had anticipated he would have chosen to live in his family's mansion upon his parents' passing, but according to him, he did not want that, but a simple life.

"Who is it?" Ollie barked hoarsely, his wand pointed at the doorknob, fully prepared to blast whoever it was on the other side into oblivion if need be. Norah stood behind Ollie, hating the sudden dryness in her mouth, and the uncertainty in her heart at not knowing who was on the other side of the door.

She steeled herself for Ollie's pained anger at best, and a cold indifference at worst if it was someone on the other side of that door he did not want to talk to, though when the voice on the other side spoke, Norah felt her heart soar.

"It's Tonks, Ol," came her weak sounding voice. "I—I need to—" But their friend was cut off by a low, guttural pain-filled scream that caused the fine hairs on the back of her neck to stand upright. Norah barreled past Ollie, practically shoving him aside by jostling his shoulder and wrenched it open.

She was going into labor, and poor Remus was beside himself. Norah breathed a shaking sigh of relief at seeing her friend relatively unharmed and bolted down the wooden steps of the front porch of Ollie's cottage and quickly ushered her inside. She'd done this before, been in this exact same spot before, knew what to do in order to help Tonks safely deliver their newborn baby.

"Shh," she whispered smoothly as Tonks let out another cry. "C'mon, we're going to help you. _I'm_ going to help you," she added, casting a wary glance back over her shoulder as she looked towards Ollie, who was eyeing Tonks' husband with no small measure of disdain and dislike in his blue eyes.

Norah did not hear Ollie's words to Remus, though whatever was being exchanged between the two of them was heated and not at all good, though she had no time as Tonks let out another low groan. The baby was coming, and now.

"I hope you're ready for this," Norah murmured under her breath and escorted Tonks into Ollie's spare bedroom, groping for her wand in her jeans pocket which she planned to use to conjure spare blankets and pillows, anything that she could think of to use in order to help the birthing of their child go smoother. She winced as she escorted Tonks to the bedroom and helped her get settled onto the bed, fluffing the pillows, spreading out a spare woolen blanket.

She heard Ollie's voice, and the man did not sound at all pleased to see Remus. Norah bit her bottom lip as she dared to poke her head out the door of the bedroom to see if Remus was going to follow them in here to be present for the birth of their child. Ollie was standing guard just outside the door as he closed off the gap of space between the two of them in two quick long strides.

He was eyeing Remus as though the werewolf were little more than dirt on the bottom of his shoe, and Norah knew Ollie was thinking of the heartless way that Remus had essentially abandoned Tonks without thinking of the pain and emotional trauma that it would cause her, let alone while she was pregnant.

"So, _Lupin_ ," Ollie spat in disgust, folding his arms behind his back, and stiffening his posture. "Back from the woods, are you? Will you be _staying_?"

Remus could feel the contempt in his voice. Norah drew in a sharp breath and was torn between her desires to go and help Tonks as she heard another shrill cry come from within their bedroom, and stay out here to watch and wait to see what Ollie was going to say to the man she knew she trusted.

Ever mindful of feigned courtesies, Remus inclined his head, though Norah swore she saw a spasming of a muscle in his jaw and behind his right eyelid as it twitched. "Yes, Mr. Brennan," he confirmed dryly. "I will be."

Ollie looked annoyed at Remus's intrusion as he moved to block the entryway to their spare bedroom. " _No_ ," he growled hoarsely. His brow was creased with deep lines and he flinched as another scream came from Tonks. "You're not going in there. Let the women do their job, Mr. Lupin. You should have _stayed_ gone," Ollie declared venomously, hatred seething behind his darkening cerulean blue orbs. "What were you _thinking_ , leaving her alone?"

Lupin's desperation got the better of him and soon he found himself placating to please a man that he hardly knew. "Please, Mr. Brennan," Remus, a man who was unused to begging, begged Nymphadora's best friend. "I know I have no right to dream she would see me but don't do this to me," he cried.

Ollie clenched his white-boned hands into fists, unable to hold his wrath towards his best friend's husband any longer. " _You_ are the _last_ person Tonks needs to see right now!" he bellowed, and before Remus could implore their reluctant host again to step aside and let him into the room, a guttural pain-filled scream from directly behind caused the hairs on the backs of their necks to rise.

Norah cursed herself and darted back into the room, though not before shooting Remus an apologetic look. "You can come in afterward," she murmured in a low voice, actively averting her gaze from Remus's flushed and outraged face at not being allowed inside to help comfort his wife during labor.

"But—" he began, but this time it was Ollie who cut Lupin off full flow.

"I don't think Tonks would want you to see her like this, Mr. Lupin," he said sharply, his beady, narrowed blue eyes piercing straight to his heart. "And Norah does not have the time to bloody argue with you. Get. Out…."

He let out a low warning growl and pointed towards the hallway, and a cold wave of fear washed over Lupin. He did not want to leave. Could not. Not like this. What if something happened to her or to the baby during labor?

What if he was not here when Dora needed him? What if she—if she…?

"Remus!" Norah's voice had only been sharp with him once and strangely enough, it was the first night the two of them had met when she'd practically barged into his home uninvited and unannounced, their wolfish tempers getting the better of them. "There is nothing you can do for your wife at this point. You would only get in my way. What you can do is stay out here and allow me to do what I can to help your wife. Tonks is going to be _fine_."

He looked from Norah and craned his neck, peering over her shoulder to look towards Tonks, who was eyeing him warily from her perch on the bed. The indecision was eating away at him. "Please, Remus?" The young blonde werewolf asked, this time much softer as she looked at him. "I can understand what you are feeling right now. Truly. I do. But the best thing you can do is wait. It's a messy business, and I can work better by myself. _Alone_. Please, sir."

"V—very well," he relented, his tone defeated and very near tears. In fact, tears were already streaming down his scarred and pale cheeks. He turned to head down the hallway with Ollie but found that he couldn't do it.

Not without this, and before either Norah or Ollie could stop him doing it, he darted into the bedroom and knelt at the edge of the bed. Tonks' eyes had closed, and her breathing had slowed while she worked her way through another painful contraction, her pains infrequent but strong, and on top of one another. Their baby was almost ready to make its way into the world soon.

Lupin leaned over and smoothed away a lock of her light, ash brown hair away from her face and whispered to his wife in a low, shaky voice. "I will be here for you both, Dora. I _promise_. I'm not going anywhere. I will _not_ break my word to you again."

And then he pressed his lips tenderly to hers before pulling apart, his legs shaking, and slowly drew out of the room as Ollie closed the door behind him. But not before casting one last final backward glance at Tonks's struggling form as she writhed in the bed and moaned in utter agony.

For a moment, Time itself seemed to come to a complete standstill. Nothing existed but her and their soon-to-be child that would make its way into the world. As the door clicked into place, Lupin found himself rooted to his spot and unable to move. His eardrums roared and vibrated with sound, and yet there was none save for the movement from the room he'd just vacated.

Without warning, Lupin felt what little strength was left in his legs leave him all at once and he sunk to the floor in utter exhaustion, using the wall behind him as a support brace. As he sat there, sprawled on the floor, stiffening as he felt Tonks's best friend join him and match his movements while he waited, he wondered how the hell it had come to this. What had he done?!

They—they should have been more careful! Dora should not have to feel such pain! _He_ did this to her. This was all _his_ fault. He had not been able to control himself, the wolf's carnal urges within, and it was Tonks who paid the price.

He was overjoyed initially at the thought of being a father since learning from Norah their baby would suffer no signs of their now-shared lycanthropic condition, but he had not thought ahead to this part at all. It was killing him.

And all because he wanted what normal wizards had every day of their lives and took for granted. A wife. A loving family. Children of his own. The tears flowed faster. He truly was a monster, a wolf, a mad beast. He'd almost caused the one person who he loved more than anything else, to meet a horrible fate. _She still may_ , he thought bitterly. _Greyback is still out there_.

He hated himself. He thought all this as he sat perched on the floor, tears streaming down his face that he did not even bother to hide from Ollie anymore. He had no strength left anymore. After nearly using all his strength to defend himself and his wife from Greyback's other wolves, he was exhausted.

"Breathe, Tonks, breathe! That's it, you're doing so great!" Norah said.

Remus winced and his head whiplashed sharply upwards to stare at the closed bedroom door as he heard another shrill cry come from the door despite Norah Jameson's soothing tone. He wrung his hands together, his nails piercing the skin of his palm, and felt his heartbeat falter for the tenth time this afternoon.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Ollie. Though the man made it no secret that he harbored animosity towards him for the pain he had inflicted on his best friend by abandoning her, he was relieved to see, at the very least, that he was offering the husband and soon-to-be-father a strangely sympathetic smile.

"Tonks is going to be fine, Remus," the taller, blue-eyed man remarked in a somber tone. "She's an Auror. Tougher than we give her credit for." He gave a little laugh, but it didn't mask the worry in his voice. Lupin moved his lips into a fake smile that he knew did not meet his eyes and whispered the same prayer under his breath that had been running through his mind for the last ten minutes, ever since she'd gone into labor.

_Let her be safe_. Though another sharp cry from the bedroom shattered his thoughts. Oh, Merlin's Beard, how had this happened? Of course, he knew _how_ it happened. Had it truly been nine months since Tonks had told him?

The hours as the two men sat outside the spare bedroom dragged on for what felt like an eternity, filled with tears, worry, pain, and even more worry.

At first, Remus was happy Dora's time was finally upon her. They were going to be parents. But as the minutes turned into hours, he began to worry.

Tonks' labor was lasting unusually long, and though Norah assured him this kind of thing happened frequently, especially among werewolves, some of Lupin's initial original worries about Dora's pregnancy began to resurface and take root in his mind. Would she and their baby be all right? They had not exactly planned for this to happen.

It had just happened, and he had stupidly like a _fool_ not thought ahead to this part, of the pain and suffering she endured.

Letting out a groan of frustration, he carded his fingers through his thick tuft of short light brown hair, noticing yet another gray hair that he could have sworn had not been there this morning. He froze as he heard Norah speak.

"Tonks! Tonks, stop crying, and _look_ at me! Look into my eyes! We're almost ready to push!" Norah's tone was harsh but confident, and Remus hoped it would allow Dora to focus through the haze of agony she was in.

"She's going to be okay." Ollie's quiet, somber voice spoke up at last.

Remus blinked, swiveling his head, and turning to face an unusually quiet Ollie, still silently seething over his abandonment of Tonks. He was staring ahead of him out a window, though from their spot on the wooden floor, Remus doubted that he could actually see anything, Dora's best friend seemed to hold the world in his blue eyes whenever he looked like this.

"How do you know?" Remus barked, demanding Ollie to tell him in a rough, coarse, and grating voice that did not sound like himself as it broke.

Ollie simply stared at the werewolf for a moment. "Intuition." He turned his head away and said nothing more to the distraught and worried father, just as the door opened and Norah poked her head out into the hallway. Sweat covered her tired face and strands of her blonde pixie stuck to her forehead.

"Ollie, I—I need your help in here." Without a word, the tall dark-haired boyfriend of Norah Jameson bolted to his feet, straightened his posture, and walked towards the room. Norah turned on her heels to follow but was stopped when Remus staggered to his feet and called after the werewolf.

"Dora! Wait, i—is Tonks! Norah, if she—what's wrong with her?"

"She's just fine, Mr. Lupin." Here, Norah gave the man a tired smile and touched his arm for a moment. "I just need a little help for this next part."

"No!" A hoarse, exhausted breathy voice came from the bedroom, Tonks's. "Don't you _dare_ bring Ollie in here! I don't want him to see me like this!"

"T, listen to me, love!" Ollie's smooth languid voice was kind and flowed into their open spare bedroom like a soft wind. "I can come in there and help Norah help make things a bit easier for you, or Nor could do this on her own. It will probably be more painful that way, but it's your call, love."

Tonks's response was a guttural pain-filled scream. "Fine! Hurry!" she screamed, and it was at Tonks's urging that Ollie and Norah rushed into the bedroom, leaving poor Lupin alone, watching the door with anxious eyes, listening for any kind of sound to indicate what the hell was going on—a shout of pain, the cry of his child, anything to indicate that Tonks was not in danger.

But everything was quiet, which sent a swell of panic to his heart. Suddenly, he could hear Tonks's breaths quickening and then slowing down.

Remus's eyes grew wide. Could she be…?

Suddenly, he didn't give a Merlin damn anymore and barreled his way through the door. He would be damned to the seven hells below if he missed the birth of his child. He'd already left his wife alone once, he was not about to break his promise to her again.

He rushed to the bedside, where poor Tonks panted and gasped against the burning need in her body.

"Remus." Norah pointed towards Remus. "Sit her up and kneel beside her. Give her something solid to lean against if you're going to be in here alongside us, you might as well make yourself useful."

Ollie was on Tonks's left, his face contorted into a pained grimace as she squeezed onto his hand tight enough to break the poor bloke's fingers, but he did not cry out in pain even once. Remus nodded as he instructed Tonks to pull her knees up and push down as hard as she could the moment his wife felt the next contraction coming.

Tonks offered her husband a weak smile in understanding, reaching for Lupin's hands. He took hold gladly. She began to squeeze as the contraction started. Dora's face grew frantic as the pain came.

"Take a deep breath," Norah ordered, her face a mask of calm serenity. "Now push!" the young blonde werewolf directed. Tonks did as she was told.

She drew in a large breath, held it, and forced herself to bear down hard.

"Push!" Lupin echoed to Tonks, feeling a note of excitement seep into his tone. After nine months, they would finally meet their baby. Tonks groaned her answer in response. She tried to stop when she ran out of oxygen, only to hear Norah order her to take in another lungful of air and keep pushing.

Again, she gritted her teeth and complied. She felt a little movement stirring, and her body began to burn as the baby made its way downward.

When the spasm subsided, she was left aching, searching for oxygen.

"Good, Tonks, that's it, keep going!" Ollie, to her left, smiled his encouragement, and Tonks turned her gaze to Remus. He smiled at her through his worry and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, hoping it was of small comfort to her. Only a few seconds later, Tonks began to tense again.

She heard the others giving orders and encouragement, and she breathed, pushed, and moaned again, struggling to see through her blurry haze of pains.

"Keep going, Tonks! That's it, I can see the hair. Light brown hair, just like its father!" Norah encouraged, shooting a wide smile towards Remus.

Tonks gritted her teeth as she could hear Remus's voice telling her to push. She felt his strong hands pulling her knees back, helping her to bring their baby into the world. She forced herself to focus on Remus like a beacon. Her husband was now the one force that was driving her beyond the commands of her exhausted and broken body. Remus was her very life, and always would be.

With a shaking hand squeezing onto his forearm, digging a hole in the material of his sweater, the other twisting his sleeve into a horrible knot, she did as her husband told her. She knew that everything would be all right with him.

Forcing herself to push and biting her tongue hard to tamp down the scream that threatened to escape her lips, Tonks felt a passing fear overcome her, and then was replaced by the same determination she felt the past few months.

The powers of nature and existence itself took over, and with strength, Tonks did not even know she possessed, she gritted her teeth and began to bear down hard, pushing the baby out of her womb, into the world.

The burning pain was worse than anything she'd ever felt in her life, but it didn't stop her as she propelled herself onwards, feeling the head begin to emerge between her widespread legs. She saw a smile appear on Norah's face.

It was bloody almost over. She took that as a good sign. "That's it, Tonks, I see it! The top of the head is showing! Keep going, it's almost over!"

For all of Tonks's inner strength and resolve, she could not overcome the pain, and her bloodcurdling screams carried on well into the early evening, but they brought with them the announcement of a birth, a new life into the world. "Push!" Ollie joined his new girlfriend in her encouragement, as she watched at Norah's shoulder at the edge of the bed. Tonks did as she was told.

No pain had ever been this intense, and yet so sweet. Tonks, in her hazy exhaustion, was very near delirium, at this point, as the trauma of her ordeal began to overtake her valiant efforts to remain calm. Her body had long since taken over, no longer taking directions from her mind, and Dora was not in any control as her muscles forcefully worked to give birth to their son or daughter.

Finally, her hoarse, raw throat expelled one last violent scream and she could hear the slightest sound of release as she grunted and pushed as the last inches of her and Remus's baby left her body.

Then, wondrously, her own pain-wracked voice was replaced by the angry, sweet wailing of her child's first cry.

Opening her eyes, Tonks looked down to bear witness to the healthy, screaming bundle that Norah held up to her. "Congratulations, you two. You're parents to a beautiful, healthy, _normal_ baby boy," she emphasized.

Tonks nodded, tears brimming in her eyes, and when she looked sideways at Remus, he too was silently crying tears of relief and happiness.

When she turned back to Norah, who was standing upright and wiping her bloodied hands on a rag, there was no mistaking the hint of sadness in her bright blue eyes, and Tonks knew the She-Wolf was thinking of her own son.

"Norah…" she whispered hoarsely, her voice breaking, but Norah pointedly shook her head no as Ollie moved to stand beside her, a hand placed comfortingly on her shoulder as Ollie gave it a light but firm enough squeeze.

"It's fine," Norah murmured, giving her head a curt shake to clear it, but Tonks could tell the blonde werewolf was not at all fine, but she nodded. "What's his name?" she questioned hopefully, biting down on her bottom lip.

Remus and Tonks looked slyly at each other, still relishing their secret.

"We've chosen to name him after Dora's father. Edward. Ted. Teddy Lupin, a great wizard in the making," Remus began, looking towards Tonks.

" _And_ yours. Teddy Remus Lupin," Tonks interrupted proudly.

"I think he likes it," Ollie murmured softly, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he rested his chin on Norah's shoulder, gently tugging at the sleeves of the blonde werewolf's black t-shirt, wanting to leave the room.

Most importantly, Ollie could see his best friend fading fast and wanted the new parents to rest, despite him still wanting to have words with Remus, he knew there would be time enough for that later. But right now, sleep.

"Get some rest, T. Stay for as long as you like," Ollie told the proud new parents, and then, gingerly steering Norah by her shoulder towards the door, he risked one last glance over his shoulder and shot them both a genuine smile, though his attention was fixed on Remus. "I told you she would be all right."

Remus glanced up, surprised, and then glancing over at Tonks, he realized what Ollie's words had meant. He did not know how the shopkeeper of Borgin and Burkes knew, but he made a mental note never to doubt the Legilimens' intuition again. Lupin nodded and smiled at him in understanding.

"Get some sleep, you two, you're going to need it," Norah told her, and with that, allowed Ollie to lead her out of their spare bedroom, closing the door behind them, and leaving the proud new family to themselves.

Lupin perched herself at the edge of the bed, scooping Tonks into his arms, their newborn son sleeping peacefully in Tonks's gentle embrace. "He's sleeping," he whispered lovingly into the shell of her ear, fresh tears spilling from his eyes. "Norah and Ollie are right. You need to rest too, sweetheart."

He kissed her lovingly and wasn't surprised when Tonks protested.

"I don't _want_ to sleep, Remus," she whispered. "I don't want to miss anything. I want to cherish every second that we have with Teddy, Remus."

She offered a smile, though it did not reach Tonks's pale gray orbs, and Remus knew the two of them still needed to have a discussion, it would wait. Tonks lifted to the baby to kiss his forehead and leaned against Remus.

For now, he was just grateful they had escaped from the Wolves' Woods.

"I think there will be plenty of time for that." Remus rested his face against Tonks's sweat-soaked hair, not even caring. "He'll need you again in a few hours, sweetheart. You should sleep while you can, my love." Peering down, he saw the rhythmic deep rise and fall of Dora's chest and realized his wife had already fallen asleep in his arms, exhausted from her physical ordeal.

As his family slept, Remus held Dora and Teddy in his protective embrace. He would watch over them through the entire night, keeping his family safe, and thanking Merlin and his mother, Hope, for the treasures with which he had been blessed, to have a life to share with his wife and new son.


	23. To Make Amends

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

Over the next several days, Remus never left Dora's side, and the proud new father was always sure to make sure their baby never left her, either.

When baby Teddy was not in his wife's arms, he kept his proud, watchful vigil over his new son, grateful that Ollie had graciously opened up his home to the pair of them, considering only a few days had passed since their escape from the Wolves' Woods, and it was likely still too dangerous to return home.

Tonks's best friend also kept a close watch on Dora and made no attempt to veil the hatred he felt for Remus.

Ollie Brennan and Norah both sat by Tonks's bedside, holding her hand, and speaking softly to the proud new mother, with Ollie retelling stories of their mischievous youth during their time as students at Hogwarts.

Although every part of Ollie wanted nothing more than to throw Lupin out of his home and forbid the wizard and werewolf from ever daring to set foot on his property again, he understood that just as Tonks was his best mate, the baby she had just given birth to was Remus's, like it or not, so, after much coaxing from Norah on her part, Ollie relented and allowed the new parents and their brand new baby to stay in his home for as long they liked, and wouldn't hear of them returning home to their own cottage, not when Fenrir Greyback was still after the pair of them and wanted their heads.

Even Ollie could not argue that Remus had every right to be by his wife's side as the father of Tonks's baby boy.

Besides, it was apparent to Ollie how his best friend spoke of her baby and her husband to her when Ollie would visit Tonks and bring her meals in bed so she could rest just how much she truly loved Remus, even if he'd abandoned her.

On the fifth day after delivering her son, Tonks sat up propped against a mountain of pillows, still too weak to move.

Remus sat by their bedside holding their baby, and Dora's first priority was to make sure Teddy was all right, and Remus.

Tonks blearily opened her eyes, her mind starting to resurface out of the depth in which it had heavily rested, and her baby was the first thought that broke through the haze of darkness that clouded her mind, that would have kept her asleep, as her pregnancy and delivery had been a truly exhausting ordeal to recover from.

Tonks woke up dazed and confused, unsure for a moment where she was, desperate for baby Teddy to return to her arms. She remembered feeling the immense pain and fear that she was probably going to die with the effort to bring forth Remus's child into the world as a werewolf.

Tonks's mind swam with the foggy memory of the birth of her son, how much it hurt, but oh, so rewarding.

 _Remus_. He had gotten her out of Greyback's clutches and saved her from Rena Lestrange. They'd spoken, he had been present for the birth of her son, yes, she remembered.

Tonks had been so certain after a few months of his abandonment of her and he had stopped writing letters to her, that Lupin had been killed.

But then the moment when Rena's guards dragged her to Greyback's tent and she had witnessed firsthand how her husband was alive and well, that he had been living the entire time she had been pregnant and held a captive under Greyback's forces and living alone in a disgusting tent that smelled of mold, blood, bodily fluids, and death. Tonks could not quite understand what it all meant.

Her lids fluttered open slowly, and she was able to comprehend that yes, the last four days had not been a dream.

Tonks was still alive, her baby was healthy, so was Remus. As she groggily sat up and perched herself up into a sitting position, she saw Remus sitting at the edge of the bed, their newborn son wrapped in his swaddling, content in his arms.

Lupin looked years younger, the lines and scars on his face less faded as he smiled down at baby Teddy, one of the baby's fingers wrapped tightly around his right pinky finger.

Remus was talking to their son, happy with their baby. For a moment, Tonks allowed herself to become lost in the pure bliss of the image before her that melted her heart, Remus John Lupin the very epitome of a proud, joyful new father.

As Tonks watched her husband cradle their son, it brought back to mind a series of memories that rolled through her mind, as though she were watching them via the Pensieve in Professor Dumbledore's office.

The time underneath the oak tree under the blanket in the woods behind their house, that midnight walk when neither could sleep, the love that had created their son shortly after their marriage.

Tonks closed her eyes, reliving Remus's gentle touch and the passion the two of them shared whenever they laid together.

Unwanted and unbidden, her thoughts drifted to the night she had been attacked in the loo of The Leaky Cauldron and Remus had blamed himself for not being there and had abandoned Tonks the very same day she lost her job.

She had _begged_ him to stay, how Remus was more than the monster created by none other than Greyback himself when he was just an innocent young boy at five years old.

The thought alone chilled her, of Greyback coming after her or Remus or even Norah, who Rena had alluded to during her time as a captive, was the one who her mate really wanted.

Not her, not Remus, but Norah Jameson for the suspected murder of their own boy, a four-year-old wolf cub named Collin, that Norah claimed she had no part in it.

She swallowed hard as she gave her head a curt shake to clear it, not wanting to think of Fenrir Greyback or Rena Lestrange right now, but all she could think of was how Remus had broken his vow when he had married her.

He had abandoned her, left her for Fenrir Greyback. Had _left_ her….

Tonks could not summon the strength, much less find the appropriate words to speak, so she merely proceeded to stare at Remus John Lupin with raised, furrowed eyebrows.

Her expression asked of her husband a million and one questions that she already knew Remus wouldn't be able to answer.

Not this time. Tonks let out a tired sigh and watched.

Teddy seemed to calm whenever his father held him in his arms, but the only time their son seemed even more content was whenever Teddy was nestled in the crook of his mother's arms.

Remus seemed to revel in his newfound role as Teddy's father. He smiled down at their five-day-old son, glancing sideways at his wife out of the corner of his eyes, silently praying to Merlin, his mother, Hope, anybody up there in the heavens who would listen to him that Tonks would want him to stay with them, though he had no right to even hope that his wife would, after the way he had left Tonks.

As the thought left Lupin's mind, he noticed his wife was more awake and alert, propped up against the pillows and watching him hold their son, and he felt overwhelmed with relief and love that she seemed to be over the worst of her recovery process thus far, and hopefully, the three of them could return home to their own cottage in a few days and get out of Ollie and Norah's hair and leave the new couple alone.

Remus felt his lips curl upwards in a soft smile as he met his wife's gaze.

"You're awake, Dora. We've been waiting for you," he declared, reaching to take his wife's hand in his while still maintaining a tight, firm grip on his newborn son.

He felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach as Dora's emotionless and fixed expression as she studied him holding Teddy frightened and unnerved him, if he was being honest with himself, but he continued.

"You're looking much better, love."

Lupin scooted up along the edge of the bed's mattress and carefully knelt over his wife, gingerly placing their son in Tonks's waiting arms. Fresh tears pricked and stung at the edges of his vision as he nestled the squirming baby boy against her, thinking how relieved he was that Teddy was not a werewolf-like the two of them.

Tonks felt a rush of love overtake her soul, warming her heart as she held the son she had proudly given Remus.

She had never quite loved another living soul as much as she loved her new son and her husband, and yet, Tonks knew the conversation she and Lupin were about to have was not at all going to be a pleasant one to have.

They had not spoken of his abandonment, of how he had broken his vow to her, that he would always be by her side the night the two of them had married in a quiet ceremony with just a couple of witnesses taken nearby from a wizarding tavern in Scotland.

They had not yet spoken of this at all, but they were about to, and they both knew it wouldn't be pretty.

Remus, somewhat awkwardly, sat at the edge of the bed next to Dora rather timidly, with the two of them sitting in silence for Merlin only knew whole long, the whole entire time his heartbreaking at the uncomfortable quietness that now lingered in the air, full to the brim with a suffocating heaviness, the causation of which was the unspoken words between the two of them that he knew Dora wanted to speak.

The two of them who had once known each other so well and could be so honest and open with one another and discuss anything, could now not even speak, and it was all his fault.

 _He_ was the one, not her, who had created this chasm. Their baby stirred and cooed in Tonks's arms and she shifted him slightly, shrugging out of the pile of blankets that someone (probably Remus) had draped over her during sleep so that she could nurse their son and settled Teddy to her breast and then stared out away from Remus out the window.

"I should _hate_ you, Remus," Dora whispered dryly, at last, no semblance of warmth in her quiet, reserved tone, and her eyes never left the rolling hills of the countryside in the distance.

Her tone conveyed absolutely nothing of whatever emotion she was currently feeling, and it broke Remus's heart.

"You—you should," Remus agreed reluctantly, a fiery heat speckling along his cheeks as he lowered his head in shame, hating himself and what he had done to his beloved wife. He had made her an outcast the night he had bitten Dora.

"I should have Ollie throw you out of here," Tonks continued speaking, gazing straight ahead, and refusing to meet her husband's piercing, yet pleading stare. "I should take Teddy and _go_ and tell you that I would _never_ see you again."

Lupin nodded, tears pricking at his eyes yet again as his heart shattered into a million untold number of fragments.

He knew that his wife was right. What else could he have expected, that she would just accept him back with open arms?

Remus had no right to hope for anything from Dora, not after what he had done to her by abandoning her while pregnant.

Remus sat gravely by their bedside, unable to speak.

Tonks paused for a moment to collect her thoughts and then forged ahead.

"I should _hate_ you," she sighed tiredly as she breathed what Lupin perceived as a defeated sigh as her shoulders slumped forward, her eyelids closing for a moment. "But I can't, Remus. You are my husband, in good times and bad. We made a _promise_ to one another, you, and I, that night. You gave me a ring and I gave you my _word_ , Remus. I did."

This was…not exactly what he had been expecting. Remus raised his brow and looked up at Tonks in confusion.

Surely it was too much for him to hope, to pray that Dora would accept him and take him back, and yet, here he was, doing just that. He drew in a sharp breath and held it, waiting for her to speak and confirm what he prayed was true: that she forgave him for what he had done.

Remus was here now, and he wasn't going anywhere. Lupin would never leave her again.

Tonks began speaking again slowly and cautiously, her pacing an effort to stem away the tears that threatened to escape from her lids.

"When you left home that night, I stood out on our front porch and watched you Disapparate into the darkness, and I wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow me whole, and not let me come back out."

"Dora, _please_ ," Remus pleaded desperately, cringing as he heard the faltering crack and dip in his voice.

He needed to tell her the real reason why he had left his pregnant wife alone that night. He'd had every intention of returning to Tonks.

"Please," Tonks implored him, begging Remus with her eyes. "Let me finish, Rem. I—I need to say this." Exhaling a deep, shaking breath, Tonks closed her eyes and forced from her lips the honesty that she needed to make him understand. "I _tried_ ," Tonks spoke as she opened her eyes and looked at Remus, a pained look in her pale gray eyes, her breaths coming in gasps, promising the half-choked sobs that threatened to turn her voice into a mere, hoarse croak. "I tried to put you away, the night that you left me away, in the back of my mind, as nothing more than a memory, a failed marriage that didn't work." She looked lovingly down at Teddy in her arms as she moved their newborn son to her other side to relieve the ache. "But no matter how hard I tried to, I couldn't. Because of _him_."

To emphasize her point, Tonks glanced lovingly down at Teddy in her arms, now fed and full and closing his eyes to sleep in his mother's arms, feeling warm and secure in his swaddling of blankets.

"I should have been there for you, Dora," Remus lamented remorsefully, and he truly did look regretful, Tonks noticed. "I know there's no way I can make up for what I did."

"You _made_ your choice, Remus," Tonks replied coldly. "And then you were _gone_ , and our son was all that mattered."

"Is that _truly_ what you think, Dora?" Remus asked, finally finding his voice, closing his eyes tiredly in regret. "There was no choice to make. I had no other alternative."

His tone became urgent as he struggled to ensure his wife saw his viewpoint. "I would do it all over again if I had to."

"I see." Tonks lowered her eyes, misunderstanding Remus's meaning behind the seemingly cold response he'd just given.

Had he never intended to stay with her following their marriage, then?

Had the love she thought they'd shared been little more than a dream?

"Is this supposed to make me feel better, Remus?" she questioned. "If it's true, why are you here? Why did you save my life back in Greyback's encampments?"

"I saved your life because it was the right thing to do, sweetheart," Remus declared hotly, staring at his wife as though Nymphadora had sprouted antlers, as if he could not believe the words that were coming out of Tonks' mouth. "I'm here by your side because I love you. I always have. You _know_ that," he pleaded, hoping, praying, that she'd accept his words.

"You love me?" Tonks snapped back vehemently, swallowing down hard past the lump in her throat as she forced herself to keep her voice down, not wanting to wake baby Teddy in her arms. "You **LEFT** me!"

The hurt in her voice was almost too much for Remus to bear it, but he did.

Remus had not wanted to stress his wife even further by discussing the horrors, the nightmares that plagued his mind and heart during the night that he had left her alone at home, when he realized that by accidentally biting her, changing her life irrevocably for good, making her a fully-fledged She-Wolf, that he had put Tonks and their baby's life, in grave danger.

Seeing her now desperately searching him for answers, Lupin knew he had to tell Tonks the truth. The time had come.

"Yes, Dora, I made a choice," he shot back, wincing visibly as he heard the anger practically dripping from his words as they left his lips. "I _chose_ you, Tonks!"

He could tell by the way his words hit their mark that he had confused his wife, which was not his intent as she stared back at him with furrowed, questioning eyebrows, her lips pursed in a thin line. Remus continued speaking before his resolve, what little of it was left, left him for good.

"I _chose_ that you should stay alive and be untouched by Greyback's wickedness. I chose to try to do what I could to keep you and our baby safe from harm, Dora. He already knew about us, and it would have been only a matter of time before he sought me out. He's been after me for years to join his ranks, and in the end, Fenrir caught you."

His stomach twisted as a coil in his gut churned as he thought of the grisly fate he had barely helped his wife to escape.

"I couldn't let that happen. So, I left. But when I found you there, in Greyback's camps, I couldn't let you be killed."

Lupin let out a growl of frustration as he looked away for a moment, carding his fingers through his thick tuft of wavy light brown hair, swearing he noticed another greying hair that had not been there this morning. He let out a tired sigh.

"I—I should have killed Lestrange in the Wolves' Woods, and Greyback, but I—I just couldn't do it," he said.

"Because I told you. You're a _good_ man, Remus. With a kind, _kind_ heart. You'd do well to remember that, love," Dora whispered, her tone softening towards him.

She reached out and touched his face gently, the pads of her fingertips ghosting along the edges of his scars, feeling the hardened wall around her heart that she had built up to serve as a barrier of sorts start to crumble the moment Remus lowered his head in ire.

Her husband continued on with recounting the events of his service under Fenrir Greyback's command.

"I realized the only way to keep you safe was to tell the wolf whatever lie he wanted to hear, and pray that you were safe, but you weren't."

Tonks's face twisted and contorted with pain as she listened to Remus. He took heart that his wife was still granting him the courtesy to speak, at least, and bared his heart and soul of the last painful nine months without his wife by his side.

"They—they _tortured_ you while you were _pregnant_ ," he growled, hissing his words through gritted teeth as he looked towards the burn markings on her wrists and ankles, where the ropes from her restraints had cut her flesh.

His voice cracked as he watched tears silently roll down Dora's cheeks, and her breath caught in her throat at his words. Tonks instinctively glanced down to check that Teddy was now sleeping peacefully unaware of his parents' distress and held him even closer.

"I _had_ to leave you, Tonks," Lupin continued. "To protect both of you, and I'd do it again if need be," he growled. Remus drew closer towards Tonks and Teddy, closing off the gap of space between him and his wife and their newborn son.

He peered up at Tonks through red-rimmed irises, cracked at the edges, drained from his begging and speaking so earnestly through his heart that she could not bear to look him in the eyes and had to look away a moment.

It took Remus a moment before he spoke again, and when he did, his voice was so soft and subdued that Tonks had lean forward in order to hear her husband's words.

"Leaving you that night was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. It was perhaps the greatest mistake of my life," he murmured, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. "I should have stayed with you. Protected you, told you that I love you and that nothing, not even Greyback, could keep me from you."

Lupin's words were tinged with just a hint of hatred at the werewolf who had taken so much from him and had almost killed that which he held most dear, who, thankfully, thanks to his quick reflexes and skills as a master duelist, were now seated in the bed in front of him, listening to him speak.

"I should have guarded you with my life and let Greyback come to me," Lupin growled in hindsight, ducking his head at the image of Rena Lestrange's men harming Tonks, and he shook his head rather violently to rid his mind of the images.

Remus swallowed down hard past the lump in his throat and brought his questioning, pleading gaze up to meet his wife's eyes once more, his face pale and grief-stricken.

"I should have," he murmured, pausing to draw in a breath. "But I couldn't. I couldn't take that chance," he said quietly as he drew himself up to sit beside his wife, gently taking Dora's face in his hands, pressing his forehead against hers. "I would have left you a thousand times over if it kept Greyback away from you and our son. But I'm not going after Greyback again, sweetheart. I'm right here where I'm sitting. I'm not anywhere else, I promise," he swore, and not giving Tonks a chance to react as he moved his lips closer towards Dora's face, aching to feel his wife's lips move in sync with his in a kiss, after nine months apart. Before the next words left his mouth, Remus hoped he was not asking Dora for too much. "If you'll have me."

He was aware he was begging now but couldn't help it.

Tonks took a deep breath, eyeing Remus softly before speaking.

"You gave yourself up. For us," she acknowledged, amazed at the depths of her husband's selflessness, knowing now that he had not left her alone out of a sense of fear for what he had done to his unborn baby and wife, but of wanting for nothing more than to ensure Teddy would grow up in a world that was a little bit safer. "You say you love me, Rem?"

"Yes. You know I do. With all my heart," Lupin answered immediately, internally offended that Dora even had to ask.

It seemed to be a satisfactory answer enough for Tonks, as his wife looked deeply into his eyes, searching his for the truth and seeing no hint of deception there, and she nodded.

"I love you too, Remus. I forgive you," Tonks whispered, shifting the now-sleeping baby Teddy in her arms. "Come home."

Lupin smiled, feeling as if he had stepped into the sunlight after spending his entire life shrouded in the shadows.

He had been reunited with Dora at long last, and she had taken it a step further than Remus could have ever prayed for and had forgiven him for his actions of leaving to protect her and their baby. His joy could no longer be contained.

Without giving his wife a chance to respond, he pressed his lips to Tonks's, hungry and eager for her kiss, and found hers just as equally starved, craving his touch after nine months of separation.

He stifled his urge to grin into their kiss as he felt Dora's hand running through his light brown hair.

Their kiss as husband and wife was passionate but sweet. Pure as they basked in one another's presence. Baby Teddy awoke in Dora's arms, sensing his father's nearness. He cooed and squirmed beneath his swaddling of blankets in happiness.

Breaking from their gentle embrace, the proud new parents smiled and laughed at their son. Lupin took the boy from Tonks's arms with an expert father's touch after five days, and Tonks happily relinquished Teddy over to Remus.

Remus and Tonks held one another, and their precious son that the two of them had created as they looked out the window and towards the rolling hills of the countryside, towards a happier future that the three of them deserved, though it did not stop the slight pang of worry from worming its way into Lupin's heart as he thought of Fenrir Greyback and his forces.

Surely, the Alpha would come after them both.

He resisted the urge to growl in frustration, shoving aside thoughts of Greyback for now. Lupin cupped his wife's chin in his strong grip and leaned in for another kiss, though before he could press his lips against hers a second time for a gentle embrace, the door to their bedroom burst open, and the pair broke apart instantly.

Remus furrowed his brows in annoyance as Ollie almost tripped over himself and had to fling an arm out to use the nearby table just to the immediate left of the door as a support brace, his black hair wild and disheveled, his face almost ashen.

When Ollie lifted his gaze, panting heavily to catch his breath, his fathomless, smoldering blue eyes landing on Tonks, he had thought at first Ollie had entered into the room to request to speak to Remus, wanting words with him as he had threatened the night his son was born about him leaving Tonks, though he could tell by the way his eyes were desperate that something was wrong.

He felt Tonks stiffen beside him as she sat up straighter, using the pillows as a brace for her back.

"Ollie? What's wrong?" Tonks questioned, biting down on her bottom lip.

She winced as the handsome former Slytherin's face became crestfallen, and a light in his blue eyes dimmed as he straightened his posture and looked around the bedroom, as though searching for something.

"It's Norah. She hasn't come back home yet." He glanced towards his best friend and Remus. "Norah hasn't come in here, has she?" Ollie had been hoping against hope that Tonks would know, as Jameson had taken quite a liking to the pink-haired young She-Wolf.

Maybe Norah had told Tonks where she would be tonight. But nevertheless, both Tonks and Remus exchanged a dark look with one another as Nymphadora shook her head, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Ollie. I haven't seen Norah since this morning. She said she was going to—"

"To Diagon Alley to run some errands and pick up a few things but that was _hours_ ago," Ollie interjected, seizing on tufts of his black hair, almost growling in utter frustration.

Tonks opened her mouth to reply, but the familiar sound of a loud _crack_! resonating outside in the backyard of Ollie's simple cottage reached their eardrums, and they all collectively perked up at the noise.

Someone had Apparated here.

The trio turned towards the bedroom window, brows furrowed in intense concentration. Tonks didn't think it would have been Norah, the young blonde would have sent a message if she was going to be late, and the fact that she hadn't sent a warning bell chimed its toll in the back of Tonks's mind.

There were a few shouts from a language that Tonks didn't immediately recognize as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed's mattress and strode towards the window, but she caught at least a few words in German and her heart plummeted to the pit of her churning, nauseous stomach then.

Norah, she thought wildly the moment a cry of distress reached her ears, and Ollie bolted towards the window and drew back the curtains that Lupin and Tonks had kept closed in order to give the proud new family privacy.

Gasping, Tonks rushed towards the window and looked out, only to reel backward into Lupin's chest with a terrible scream at her lips.

"Norah!"

Lupin heaved himself to his feet, Teddy still in his arms, and hurried to his wife and Ollie's side.

"What is it, love? What are you…?" Remus started to ask, but his voice trailed off as he followed his wife's gaze and his eyes settled on what she saw.

Outside of Ollie's house in his backyard stood none other than Fenrir Greyback and a couple of his other werewolves, ones that neither Remus nor Tonks were able to recognize.

Behind him, two low-ranking werewolves in their Alpha's ranks held a chained and kneeling Norah Jameson hostage at wandpoint.


	24. His Decision

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR** **  
**

Norah turned her head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood, cringing as the pointed tip of one of her former Alpha’s wands dug deep into the column of her throat, and she thought for a moment that he would simply pierce her skin with the weapon instead of killing her with it. She struggled against the ropes that bound her wrists, trying in vain to find a way to break through them without any of Fenrir’s men noticing she had.

The slight movement as she squirmed from her spot where the men had forced her into a kneeling position on the ground, unfortunately, caught the attention of one of the Death Eaters, and the younger of the two merely proceeded to press the tip of his wand even tighter against the skin of the German werewolf’s throat. Norah ceased her struggling and turned her worried gaze up towards Greyback, who was shouting something towards the back porch of Ollie’s home. It had all happened so damned fast.

She had been on her way home from Diagon Alley to pick up a few things, something for dinner that she thought Lupin and Tonks would like, and maybe a bottle of red, elvish wine for herself and Ollie when things were quiet again, when she’d run into Florean Fortescue and had gotten caught up in explaining her reasons for disappearing on him the day that she had, to which she was relieved the old man harbored no hard feelings or resentment towards her, and Norah was grateful for it.

Florean had been closing up shop but had beckoned the young blonde witch to step inside a moment to share his idea of hiding Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin and Remus from Greyback’s men upon learning from a few reliable sources that the wolf and his forces were actively seeking her out for the death of his son.

Of which Norah had no part in and would stand by the truth until her dying breath, which, judging by the murderous look in Greyback’s eyes, was going to be today if the Alpha got his way.

And he _always_ got his way. Mr. Fortescue had suggested using The Shrieking Shack, of all places, within Hogsmeade to hide the new family.

While admittedly not the best of locations, considering they had appointed no one as a Secret Keeper, and the relative safety of the place, considering its haunted reputation thanks in part to Remus John Lupin’s screams and howls, considering he had gone through during his school days and presumably when he had taught at Hogwarts to transform, was untouched. People wouldn’t dare to go near that house.

The idea of hiding the pair whom Norah considered as friends in a house with such a tragic history made the young blonde feel a little nervous, but even she could not deny that Mr. Fortescue’s plan was their best bet. She and Florean had parted with a hug and well wishes, with Norah promising to inform Ollie and Remus and Tonks of their plan to hide them until Greyback’s wrath calmed down and he turned his attention to something else instead, and no sooner had she rounded the Merlin-damned corner, near Flourish and Blotts, when poor Norah Jameson was stopped by a tall, imposing figure in a black leather trench coat, and Norah could only surmise that Greyback or one of the other wolves under his command had seen her conversing in low, hushed tones with Mr. Fortescue and knew the two were conspiring against him and planning something secretive, yes.

Unfortunately, she never got the chance to ask. As soon as Norah realized what had happened before she could so much as raise her wand in defense, the blonde werewolf had been accosted by two of Greyback’s men who stank of human blood and bodily fluids, bound, chained, and informed they were going to have a little ‘chat’, that in actuality would up being a brutal beating.

Greyback had been the last soul Norah had been expecting to see skulking about Diagon Alley, considering his status as a wanted wolf, and she had admittedly been scared, yes, but not nearly as scared as she was now, though not for herself. No.

She finally comprehended why Greyback and taken her and brought her back here, in front of Ollie’s house in full view, forced down into a kneeling position on her knees, not caring for the dirt and grit that dug into her black jeans. It was not for an interrogation, as Norah had initially believed, no. She was being used to be made an example of. As live bait before being executed.

With a tired groan, Norah squeezed her eyes tightly shut and lowered her head like a fiery heat speckled along her cheeks, finding brief solace in the darkness that waited behind her lids. _Don’t_. She begged, biting her bottom lip, still keeping her eyes shut, knowing full well that Ollie, the natural-born Legilimens and Occlumens that he was, could hear her plea.

_Ollie. You stay inside and tell Remus and Tonks to stay inside too. Please, don’t come. Stay inside, no matter what._

_Just don’t_.

* * *

A burning rage hit Ollie so fast, the poor man who was very near hysterics at this point, hardly had time to sort through his emotions. As he dared to meet Norah’s pleading gaze and heard and processed her words, Norah stiffened, her shoulders rising slightly before she ducked her gaze again, furrowing her brows.

_He is MY problem to deal with, Brennan. Not yours_ , came Norah’s voice inside his mind, her German accent clipped and hard as their eyes met and locked, having a private conversation of their own. _Stay put. Don’t come out. Stay inside. Please, Ollie. Don’t_ …

_But he’s going to kill you_! Ollie bellowed, not even minding seeing how Norah flinched at the harshness and cold tone of his words, staring at the young blonde, stunned that the She-Wolf could hold her own life in such blatant disregard, to protect him.

But Norah was not _worth_ his life. If there was even a remote chance that Greyback would let Norah go, if he offered up himself in exchange as payment for the life of Fenrir’s son, no matter who killed the boy, then surely, it would be enough to assuage the wolf.

“I have to go out there,” Ollie spoke up, his tone chilling both Lupin and Tonks to their cores as their heads swiveled to the right to look at him. His voice was flat and emotionless. “I _have_ to, T.”

“ _What_? _Why_?” Tonks pleaded, on the verge of tears. “ _Don’t_!”

Lupin’s face fell as Ollie fixed the pair of them with a pointed glower, holding them captive in his glacier-blue stare devoid of warmth. Remus’s stomach turned as he had witnessed for himself firsthand at the thought of Greyback and Rena Lestrange’s vileness. He did not even know if Fenrir’s mate was still alive, and nor did he particularly care. He did not know why he or Ollie or Norah or Tonks, even, at this point, should be surprised at the lengths Greyback was willing to go to in order to take what was his.

In this case, he wanted Norah’s life in exchange for his son’s.

Ollie looked up sternly towards Tonks and Lupin, holding his best friend and her husband hostage in his stare. “You _know_ why, T,” he answered coldly, ensuring his face was a mask that betrayed none of the emotions he felt raging war within his chest at the fear that tugged at his heartstrings at seeing Norah out there with him.

He voiced what both of them already feared. “Even here in my own _home_ , it’s become a prison for you both. And for Norah. You know what Greyback would do to you if you ever left this place, and I’m not just going to stand here doing nothing while the woman I love is in danger, so don’t ask me to wait here, because I _can’t_!”

Ollie was panting heavily now from exertion and the vent of adrenaline that was manifesting itself as anger within his chest.

Tonks nodded, unable to speak, clamping a hand over her mouth, choking back a sob as Greyback grinned maliciously at the window and his cold gaze lingered on her, finding her and rendering her immobile with baby Teddy tucked safely in her arms.

Greyback sneered as his gaze drifted towards Ollie, seemingly no longer finding any benefit in tormenting Remus and Tonks further, and it did not take Ollie dipping into the wolf’s mind to know that he was hellbent on torturing Norah and making her pay.

“Brennan!” he barked in a rough, coarse voice that sounded like a wooden barrel being scraped against a cobblestone street.

It sent a collective chill down Lupin and Tonks’ spines, though neither made a move to speak as Greyback continued addressing Ollie. “Your little mate out here was caught conspiring with the ice cream man against my men and myself, and therefore, against all of the wolfkind. A hate crime that’s punishable by certain death, sir.”

Ollie’s gaze narrowed. Lupin was trying to say something, but all Ollie could hear and focus on was Greyback’s methodical and precise oration as he shouted, raising his voice loud enough to ensure that they all heard him. “As it happens, I have half a mind to bring the blonde _bitch_ back to my camp for questioning, I just thought I would do you the courtesy of informing you, boy,” he said.

“ _No_ …” Ollie growled threateningly, his gaze shifting to rest on the blonde werewolf’s kneeling form, her bangs hiding her eyes and the rest of her expression from his sight as Norah bowed her head.

“As the manager of Borgin and Burkes in the owners’ absence, boy, I know that you are a man who is partial to a good bargain,” Greyback continued, his tone languid and smooth as though he were haggling over the price of an item in the shop in Knockturn Alley instead of discussing Norah’s life in exchange for what he wanted. “So, allow me then, from one businessman to another, it’s just _good_ _business_ , to proposition you one, kid. Get out here and end this, and I won’t kill her. Stay in your safe house if you like, _snake_ , but know that this is the last chance to look your bitch lover in the eyes before I kill her where she kneels if you don’t come out. The choice is yours, Brennan, so what the hell is it going to be?”

A gust of wind wafted through the open backdoor window and whipped at his thick tuft of short black hair. Ollie forced himself to exhale slowly with the breeze, tears pricking at the edge of his sight.

In the heavy, uncomfortable silence that followed, she finally heard Tonks whisper in his ear. “What’s going on, Ollie? What’s happening? What’s he saying?” she whispered, whispering soothing remarks to her newborn baby, who’d started to fuss and squirm in his mother’s arms. “What does he want with you, Ollie?”

“Me,” Ollie heard himself answer in a voice that did not entirely sound like his voice at all, as Greyback continued to hold the Legilimens’ stare from across his backyard. “I have to go, T.”

Tonks stared out the window and out into the lush green yard, her breathing slowing until it practically became silent, and her face vacant. When she did finally turn her head to meet her best friend’s gaze, her entire face was pale, practically bone-white, giving her haunted pale gray eyes a particularly hollowed-out look.

Tonks looked down at the baby in her arms. He had finally quieted, thank Merlin, and was nestled so blissfully unaware in his swaddling in his mother’s firm grip. “ _Why_?” Dora shook her head, trying to send away her best mate’s words with a shake of her head. “You—you said that we’d be _safe_ here. Norah can handle her own.”

Her gray eyes questioned his blue ones desperately. Ollie nodded, desperate to make Tonks and her husband see things from his perspective.

“You will be,” he promised, his gaze fixated on Tonks before flitting to the side and back to Norah. “But I’m going to save the woman that I love.” Here, his gaze flitted to Remus. “Just as you did, sir. Nothing’s going to stop me,” he solemnly swore. He tried to give Tonks a hopeful smile, though it felt more like a pained grimace as his face twisted and contorted with fear. “I will not see anyone else that I love die in this lifetime if I can help it.”

Tonks gaped and sighed heavily. The defeat in her face practically tore Ollie to pieces. There was nothing more to be said.

She stared ahead of Ollie and out the window at Norah, as if not really seeing him. She felt the small world of Ollie’s spare bedroom spin beneath her feet as she worked her way back to the bed and sat down at the edge of the mattress, holding Teddy close to her heart. Tonks did not say a single word as Lupin joined her.

The young witch did not bring her eyes up to regard her best friend. Heartbroken, she seemed to have eyes only for her new son.

“ _Go_.” Her voice was flat and listless, numb, and resigned to the fact that he had made up his mind. There was no changing it.

As Ollie moved to head towards the door, he felt a strong hand grip itself around his shoulder, rough and calloused. He stiffened.

_Lupin_. He did not even have to turn around to sense the werewolf’s thoughts. “Mr. Brennan, I never took you for an _idiot_ before,” Tonks’s husband snarled in a hoarse voice, “but this is absolutely ridiculous!” He shoved Ollie’s arm away and pointed out the window. “Don’t you understand what’s going on? If you walk out there, Greyback will kill you and then Norah. She’s the bait, and you’re being lured out!” His words spent, Remus Lupin fell silent.

“I _know_.” Ollie glanced down at the floor beneath his boots. “But it is the only way to ensure he lets Norah go. If he does to Norah what he did to Tonks…” Ollie trailed off as his voice cracked and drew in a deep, shuddering breath. He looked and felt as if he were going to be sick as his poor stomach swooped and churned.

Tonks could barely look at her best friend in the eye. As Ollie moved towards the bed to set a gentle hand on Tonks’s shoulder, she felt her anger at what he was doing take hold of herself again. Ollie could see the pain and fear that was plaguing her mind, and it broke Ollie’s heart. He wanted her to be assured that he was going to take care of Greyback, that he and Norah would be safe, but he did not know what to say to make her feel any better now.

He stood, wanting nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole, watching perhaps the one woman aside from Norah who he loved, cherished and respected most in this world turn away from him, taking their friendship with her. He closed his eyes tight with regret as he realized that this must be how she felt all those nights ago months back when Remus had left her.

For what he was doing, Ollie knew he bloody deserved every bit of her mistrust and anger. He knew that and could respect it.

He swore that he would stop at nothing to restore Tonks’s faith and certainty in him. Ollie let out a sigh and turned towards Lupin. “Take care of the girls,” Ollie begged Remus as he strode out of the hallway, Lupin at his heels to head towards the backyard. “Protect Tonks and Norah if I don’t…if I don’t make it,” he asked.

Lupin looked up at Ollie, a serious, worried frown etched upon his lined features. It was perhaps the first time he had ever heard his wife’s best friend allude to any fear that he might not live.

He understood that by going outside in order to give himself up to Greyback to ensure Norah’s safety, it would mean his death.

“I will. I swear it. With my own life,” Remus voice solemnly as Ollie wrenched open the door that led out onto his back porch.

Ollie nodded, clenching his jaw tightly shut, and fought back against the lump forming in his throat that was hollowing and constricting, rendering it difficult for him to breathe. He felt dizzy. He was unable to stop himself from envisioning the torment through which his best friend had lived in hell for the last nine months and the whole duration of her pregnancy, and of Norah.

The women had both been prisoners. Both victims of Greyback. Both his. His walls were crumbling, and he stepped outside the doors before Remus Lupin could see this for himself.

Ollie was smart enough not to look back. As he climbed down the steps of his back porch, he shot a silent prayer to Merlin and his mother, whoever else was up in the heavens watching out for him that Tonks and Norah would both forgive him for what he was about to do. Perhaps it was selfish to rob his best friend of her best friend but allowing a mass murderer to rob him of the woman that he loved was unacceptable, and he was not going to stand for this.

He hoped, as he stalked down the hill towards the edge of the forest where Greyback lay in wait, now just the two of him, the other wolves had vanished, with poor Norah still kneeling on the ground, that he had not wasted too much time in making his call.

His stomach rolled with nerves, and he swallowed down hard. With one last glance over his shoulder at his home, his gaze settled and lingered upon the spare bedroom’s window, where both Lupin and Tonks were watching, worried expressions on their faces.

Nothing in his home moved, but Ollie could not help but imagine the air around him lifting, almost as if some unseen entity had bestowed upon him the courage. The courage to do what needed to be doing, and with that, Ollie turned back to face the werewolf, towering over him at well over six feet tall, perhaps even seven feet.

He was smart enough not to look back.


	25. High Tensions

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

Norah's heart plummeted to the pit of her churning stomach as the sound of the back door of Ollie's back porch slammed shut and echoed through her ringing eardrums. She jerked her head up to see Ollie's ashen, terrified face standing on the last step of his porch.

For a moment, he stayed there, and Norah genuinely thought the man had only stepped out for a moment to see what the bloody hell was going on. But then, he steeled herself, a muscle in his jaw twitching and stormed down the steps and down the grassy embankment towards where Greyback lay in wait.

Norah instantly tried to struggle free, but Fenrir jabbed the tip of his wand further into the column of her throat.

"Stop. Moving. Bitch," he barked, though Norah paid her former Alpha little to no mind at all. _What the hell are you doing, Ollie_?! Norah wondered, her blood turning to ice in her veins the closer the man got to closing off the gap of space between himself and Greyback and Norah. _Go back inside NOW_!

But Ollie ignored her pleas, having eyes only for Greyback.

" _Finally_. The boy graces us with his presence," Greyback barked in a rough, hoarse voice that did not sound at all amused with Ollie or her. Ollie merely proceeded to square his shoulders as the werewolf approached him, his chin raised and his cobalt blue eyes darkening in color until they were almost cerulean, and cold, a look Norah had seen in her own reflection several times before.

It was how she coped with the harshness of a world that hated her and people like her, and Remus and Tonks afflicted with their condition. She was used to it, but to see it on Ollie's face was foreign, not like him at all.

"Let Miss Jameson go. _Now_. You want someone to pay for the death of your boy, I get it," he growled in a voice devoid of warmth. "But taking it out on her isn't the way. If you _have_ to, take _me_ instead," Ollie snarled, keeping his gaze fixated on Greyback, ignoring Norah's face rapidly draining of colors.

Fenrir stopped, the edges of his lips curling upward to reveal yellow, stained gums, though he bowed his head and spread his arms in a gesture of humility.

"By Merlin's Light and the warlock's good graces, I swear to let your bitch go. I made you a deal, did I not, boy? It's just good business. I only expect you to hold up your end of the bargain, kid."

A tense moment passed between the three of them where no one spoke. Norah watched with mounting horror as Ollie glanced over at her, his blue eyes cloudy and wide.

"Will you give me a moment to say goodbye?" he asked, swallowing down hard past a growing lump in his throat.

Greyback shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant way and waved his hand as he turned from the werewolf and the Legilimens.

"I'll allow it but don't take all night," he barked, turning on his heels and walking away from the two of them, allowing them a brief modicum of privacy but still staying within range in case either one of them got any bright ideas.

Ollie nodded, not mistaking the hint of steel laced throughout the broad werewolf's baritone voice that sounded gruff and grating. He did not want any sudden acts of deceit or tricks from either one of them. Ollie wasted no time in dropping down to his knees before Norah, his pallid face inches from hers.

"I don't want you to worry, Nor," he said in a voice that sounded on the verge of breaking and breathless.

"What are you _doing_ out here, Ollie?" Norah demanded, fighting to control her voice. "Go back inside, _please_ ," she cried, "before he…before he _kills_ us both. I can _handle_ him!"

Ollie shook his head as he reached up a tender hand and brushed Norah's blonde bangs out of her eyes that had fallen in front of her face, offering her a heartbreaking smile that did not reach his eyes.

"I can't do that, Nor. If I go back inside, it puts Tonks and Lupin and their baby in danger, and you're in danger if I do nothing. This is the only way, Norah…"

Norah made an odd little strangled noise at the back of her throat as the mask of calm serenity she wore began to crumble in front of her boyfriend, tears spilling down her cheeks and her mouth pressing into a thin line to repress a half-choked, watery sob.

Words failed her. Confronted by the harsh reality of Ollie's frightened gaze and the manacles around her wrist that weren't bloody coming off without Greyback's key, Norah was taken back to a different time in her life, where she watched on in horror as someone else chose torture and death over the alternative, and she hated it.

"No, Ol, please…y—you would _do_ this to me…" she moaned. Norah bit down on her bottom lip as the sob escaped and the chains gave a rattling clink as she reached for his shoulders. "Go back inside. Let me handle this. Please. _Don't_."

Ollie smiled, though it was twisted and contorted with pain, his was a genuine smile. The same smile he used to give her during Potions and Herbology when they were students together at Hogwarts whenever he thought she wasn't looking.

"Norah, I just want you to know that…you make me so happy. I—I don't want you to ever forget it, love. Don't…"

He tipped forward and planted a soft, sincere kiss on Norah's lips. "I love you," he whispered tenderly into the shell of her ear, and before Norah could open her mouth to reply to Ollie's words of affirmation, Greyback had hauled the former Slytherin to his feet and had him by the man's arms.

He dragged Ollie away from Norah, towards the edge of the woods behind Ollie's cottage. His hands, his lips moving against hers in a kiss, and his warmth he gave off left the young blonde werewolf, along with the last shred of self-control.

" **OLLIE**!" The sound of metal snapping as the links of her manacles shot through Ollie's backyard, truly deafening.

Norah felt a sharp pain in her wrists as she summoned the strength of the she-wolf within herself, the beast that she knew she really was inside, to pull her bindings totally free, had it not been for the vent of adrenaline surging through her veins.

Greyback cried out in surprise and lunged for the blonde, but with a well-timed duck and a powerful shove, Norah tackled Fenrir Greyback to the ground and the two toppled over one another and were sent tumbling down the ravine and was sent reeling headfirst towards a tree, though the blonde managed to skid out of the way at the last second.

Norah heaved, turning her head to the side to cough and gasp for breath, her heart slamming into her chest, every fiber of her body screamed at her to Disapparate and take Greyback with her, if it meant keeping Ollie and Lupin and Tonks and their baby safe, then she could live with this death.

Her eyes stung as she rose shakily to her feet. " _Why_?" she growled, baring her teeth as the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up as her blurry vision returned to her in waves and flows. "Why are you _doing_ this? I did _not_ kill your son!" she shouted.

She swore her wolfish hearing perked up the sound of Ollie following her down the ravine, and someone else, was it Lupin? But she didn't have time to ponder it further as Greyback rose to his feet as well, panting, though not from the exertion of their fall, but rather, from unbridled rage.

Greyback picked up his pace and advanced on Norah. His eyes glazed over as he levelled his wand at her pale neck.

Norah darted out of the way and dodged his attack at the last minute as his Incendio charm struck the tree behind her, sending up a handful of flames and sparks from the tip of his wand.

Greyback barked something unintelligible as Norah ducked behind the particularly wide trunk of an old elm tree.

" _Fucking quit it_!" Norah bellowed, not bothering to mind her language now that she was no longer in the polite company of Ollie's best friend and her husband and their baby. " _You already killed my husband and my son! What more do you want?_ " she screamed, seizing on tufts of her hair and tugging on them so hard the roots screamed in protest for her to stop.

Greyback aimed his wand blindly in the direction of Norah's voice as she dipped and dashed through the line of thick trees, summoning what speed she possessed as a She-Wolf to dodge his spells as bursts of green light caused explosions when they missed his intended target and hit the trees she was hiding behind instead. Splinters exploded over Norah's head.

" _You murdered my son, you little bitch_!" he shouted, his gruff, coarse voice echoing through the woods.

Norah ducked and ran towards the forest's clearing, wanting to put as much as distance between herself and Greyback as possible, while leading the wolf as far away from Ollie and Lupin and Tonks as was humanely possible to do.

She hid behind a tree and watched Fenrir Greyback whiplash his head around sharply to the left and right, in a mad search for her and cursing under his breath choice words that even Norah, with her trash mouth, wouldn't dare utter.

Sadly, the Alpha's accusation wormed its way into her heart, that damned stubborn, throbbing corded mass of muscle pounding relentlessly against its cage, and Norah, damn her, forgot to bite down on her own tongue and spoke.

" _You're_ the murderer!" she screamed, her fingers curling tightly around the handle of her wand. "You killed my _son_! Wes!" she bellowed, swallowing down the lump in her throat.

Norah panted heavily and gasped for breath, well aware she had just given away her position to her former leader, wildly darting to the left and right, searching for a way out.

She could Disapparate with him. Escape these woods, flee, but then she would have to do this all another time. _No_.

Better to just end this. Emanating a tense exhale through her nose, Norah shakily rose to her feet and stepped out from behind the tree that she had ducked behind for cover from his wild aiming of his spells and jutted her chin out defiantly.

Norah kept her gaze fixated on Greyback's advancing figure. He was coming up on her fast. Norah raised her wand.

"My cub was found dead and bloodless in the woods. Explain that to me, _bitch_ ," Greyback snarled, curling his gums.

"I don't _know_ what happened," Norah snarled, doing her best to remain firm in her resolve and her voice strong, though there was no mistaking the faltering crack and dip in her voice. "None of us did! I did _not_ kill your cub, Alpha…"

Greyback's huge, hulking shadow loomed over the tree and overtook her petite form as Fenrir stalked towards Norah.

Norah attempted to turn on the heel of her black boot to Disapparate, but this time, she wasn't fast enough, gods be damned. Greyback's arm shot out and latched onto her arm, ignoring her anguished gray as his long, dirtied nails sank into the flesh of her arm and held his wand against her pale throat.

His listless, unfeeling eyes bored straight into Norah's, and Norah felt her pulse pulsate against the sharp tip of the man's wand.

"Typical of you, Jameson, to lie your way out of this crime," Greyback growled through gritted teeth. "But I know the truth, bitch. I know it was you. They say that only death may pay for life, and you're paying for my son's with yours," he hissed, whispering his poisonous words in her ear.

Norah squeezed her eyes tightly shut, tears threatening to escape her lids, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction. Her eyes flung open as she swore she felt his hot breath in her ear and a wave of disgust wracked her body.

She did the only thing she could. She spit in his face. The anticipation of her death was so awful, she almost wished he'd just slit her throat if that were what he wanted, get it over with.

"I'm a _fair_ Wolf, bitch," he whispered, the sound of his voice almost making Norah jump as her skin practically crawled at the sound of the Alpha's rough voice in her ears. Norah sanguinely turned her head to find the werewolf smiling at her, in an unhinged way that sent a chill down her spine. "And I mete out fair punishment as well. It's time, kid."

Before Norah could blink away the wretched tears that escaped, Greyback stepped behind ear, his wand still angled against her throat, pinning her injured arm behind her back, and muttered a single command in the shell of Norah's ear.

"Move."

* * *

It all happened so fast. Ollie didn't know how he ran into Lupin, but one moment, he was racing blindly towards the ravine, having watched the pair of werewolves tumble over the edge as a result of their skirmish. Norah had flung herself at Greyback to save his life.

But he was not worth her life! Merlin be damned, he wasn't! Take it back! He jumped when he felt a strong hand grip onto his shoulder, preventing him from barreling down the ravine after Greyback and Norah.

It was Lupin, having fled the sanctuary of Ollie's house, leaving Tonks with Teddy, looking winded, his face pale and taut.

"Mr. Brennan," Lupin started to say, but Ollie spoke at the same time as Dora's husband.

"H—he's got her. The bastard's got Norah, I— _help_ _me_!" he begged, willing to forego their differences and strive to maintain a semblance of friendship if it meant Remus would help him save Norah.

"Follow me," Lupin murmured, a hardened edge to his voice, though before he could speak further, a scream pierced their ears and echoed somewhere down below, at the bottom of the ravine in the woods.

The two men stood rooted to their spots, frozen for a half a second as they came to the same conclusion: that was Norah's voice, and she sounded like she was in danger.

"Oh, _God_ ," Ollie moaned in despair, grabbing Lupin's arm, and tugging him violently towards the ravine. The only reason the man stopped was because he felt Remus pull away. "What _is_ it?" he barked.

He _wanted_ Norah, and he was _not_ in a patient mood, and Merlin help him if they were too late because Dora's husband was hesitating, then so help him he would kill him.

"Not that way. He'll be expecting it! This way," Lupin urged as the older man tugged Ollie in the opposite direction. "Hurry!"

Trusting the werewolf to know what he was doing and know the way, Ollie turned on the heel of his boots and bolted into a run as he trailed close behind Tonks's husband, desperately trying to outrun the feeling of dread that they were too late to save the woman that he had always known himself to be hopelessly and desperately in love with.

* * *

Greyback marched Norah underneath a tree and slammed her so violently against the trunk that she swore she heard a muscle in her back crack and pull.

She bit down on her tongue hard enough to draw blood. Norah fought against the whimper that threatened to escape when Fenrir lowered his wand and pointed it square at her abdomen.

"If only your precious mate knew your dirty little _secret_ ," he whisper hissed through clenched teeth into the shell of her ear. "You haven't told him, then, judging by the look of shock on your face."

Norah's face blanched and she numbly shook her head no, hardly believing that it was about to come to this, that she was going to die here at the hands of Greyback before Ollie could even know the truth.

"Go to hell," she spat, and her breaths hitched in her throat the moment Greyback's hand wound like poison ivy did to a column around her throat and squeezed.

She made an odd, strangled noise at the back of her throat, but Norah bluntly refused to beg for her life.

"Odd," he growled coldly. "Your _husband_ said that too, just before I bit his throat out and sank my fangs into his neck, _bitch_."

Norah's face paled and turned an interesting shade of green, and for a moment, she thought she was going to vomit all over Greyback's precious black leather trench coat. She stared at the Alpha in horror, and if it hadn't been for his hand wound around her throat, she would have tackled him and done her best to kill the man.

Norah squeezed her eyes shut as the tip of Greyback's wand dug into her stomach, the place where she knew it would hurt him the worst.

"Give your wretched wolf cub and mate my best when you meet them again in hell," Greyback's voice whispered into Norah's left ear.

Norah squeezed her eyes tightly shut. In the darkness of her mind, a face floated in front of her vision, creating colors of fondness. First, it was the bearded face of her Wes.

Then her husband's face morphed into the blond, fair-haired face of her precious Jax, her sweet boy, and then, her family's images faded away and gave way to Ollie's kind, white smile, and another face alongside his.

Seeing their faces, Norah sobbed out loud despite her best efforts to contain it.

_I love you_ , she thought. _I love you all…I'm sorry._ Greyback muttered an incantation, one Norah did not recognize, and the scream that left her lips did not sound like hers.

Her skin was tearing to shreds as something warm and sticky gushed through her simple black t-shirt, the sound of her muscles and nerves in her abdomen and chest being gouged out by Fenrir's hex.

Her cry was a brilliant sound, guttural chokes mixed with an agonized roar. Norah sank to her knees, continuing to scream, convulsing, and trembling like a rabid animal, and thick blood flowing freely from the gaping hole in her wound that Greyback had caused.

The cascade of her life force gushed out in all directions, staining the forest floor beneath her as she crumpled to a heap.

Norah wasn't sure what happened next, though the someone of someone yelling, screaming, caused her wolfish hearing to perk up at the noise, though as she blearily struggled to force her vision to focus more than a few feet in front of herself, she couldn't make anything out.

The chaos was preceded by the sound of tearing fabric and the roar of an enraged wolf, she recognized it as Fenrir Greyback's voice. Her scream mingled with the cries of Ollie calling her name, though Greyback's voice faded and the hard thud of what sounded to Norah like a body slumping to the ground alongside hers met her ears.

There was a pit in Norah's stomach, if she even had one left, but she only got to see Greyback's feet splayed on the floor before darkness threatened to consume what was left of her fading vision.

Forcing herself to keep her eyes open, Norah glanced up as she felt herself being shifted into a pair of strong arm's, and met Ollie's soft gaze, relief shining in his blue-grey eyes as he wrapped one arm around her back, and Lupin's face came into focus, towards her right.

Lupin worked as quickly as he could, waving his wand, and murmuring an incantation that sounded like a song to Norah as he worked to tend to her wound.

She was…she was _safe_.

Realizing this, Norah let out a half-choked sob, but lacked the strength to hug the man holding onto her.

"Don't look, Norah," Ollie whispered, holding his hand to her eyes. "He's dead." His tone was somber and his gaze fiery and intense. "Y—you're going to be fine, Norah, I—I promise," he swore.

Lupin quickly nodded his agreement, though his face was pale.

"You need a Healer, Miss Jameson, _immediately_. "I think it's best if we take you like this back to the house." He waved his wand and conjured a non-corporeal Patronus and sent it off into the air. "A Healer from St. Mungo's will be arriving shortly, I hope," he said.

Norah nodded, and the next thing she knew she was being lifted into a pair of very strong arm's, Ollie's arms, carrying her out of the forest clearing before Disapparating with her back up to their house.

Norah rested her head against his chest, closing her eyes as a surreal sense of calm washed over her body, and a tear slid down her cheek. Greyback was dead. Dead, and he would never terrorize her, or Lupin, or Tonks, or another person, ever again. His reign ended.

The young blonde werewolf heaved a tired sigh and listened to the heartbeat of the man that she knew she loved. In her mind, there was no sweeter sound in the world. "I knew you'd protect me, Ollie," she whispered, knowing full well he could hear her. "Thank you…"

In response to Norah Jameson's statement, Ollie shifted the werewolf's weight in his arms and planted a gentle kiss on her head.

"Always."

* * *

Tonks rested baby Teddy in his crib and stood anxiously by the window of the spare bedroom in Ollie's house, watching, waiting for a sign, a sound, a shout, a cry of pain, a call for help. Anything…

She breathed a sigh of relief as Remus and Ollie came up over the hill, though the sense of relief quickly faded, replaced with worry the moment she caught sight of both her husband and best mate's distraught faces.

"Here!" shouted Lupin, doing his best to support Ollie helping to carry Norah, who lay in his arms, limp, unresponsive, soaked in thick red blood. "Into the house! Is the Healer here yet?"

Tonks clamped a hand over her mouth and darted out of the bedroom to wrench open the back door of Ollie's porch, stepping back to allow the men to escort Norah inside to take her to their bedroom. She hated the fact that she stood motionless in the hall, unable to approach.

Part of it was shock, fear, guilt, knowing that, considering she was still recovering from giving birth to Teddy, that she could do nothing to help Norah, and that it was better that she let a Healer from St. Mungo's, who was well qualified to handle such a thing, take care of Norah.

Tonks had never felt like a stranger in Ollie's life, considering the man was her best friend alongside Charlie Weasley, but for the first time in her life, she felt out of place her, like she did not belong in the Slytherin's life, like she did not understand.

Knowing that somehow, someway, she was the cause for all of this. If she had not gone after Lupin that night when he was still transformed, she'd have not gotten bitten, and Norah would not have been forced to look for out Tonks, and none of this would be a problem.

Tonks did not nearly let herself to look, but in the end, she refused to turn away, knowing that she would never forgive herself for being such a bloody coward not even to see the blonde She-Wolf and know the damage that she had a part in causing.

"Oh, _Merlin_ …"

As Remus and Ollie did their best to escort Norah to Ollie's bedroom, Tonks let no gasp escape her mouth, but still, a sense of blunt coldness sent a cold chill down her spine, and her heart practically came to a standstill as she stared at Norah's bloody black t-shirt, soaked to the brim in her own blood, and her jeans, too.

"It's her stomach. I don't know the extent of the damage that Greyback did to her, but I—I wrapped it as best I could to stop the bleeding and did what I could, but I'm not a trained Healer, Tonks," Lupin explained in a calm manner, though just underneath the surface, Tonks detected the warbling note in his voice. "I've called for a Healer, and they need to come, immediately." His voice shook.

"The blood, there's so much blood, oh, Merlin, oh _God_ ," whispered Tonks hoarsely as she shook her head to clear her mind. Tonks poked her head in through the door of Ollie's bedroom as the two men worked together to gently set her on their king-size bed.

"Dora, I'll need your help," said Lupin sharply, quickly gaining his wife's attention. "We have to try to do what we can to prepare for the Healer's arrival. Ollie, I don't think Norah would want you to see her like this. For the time being, we're going to need you to leave."

Tonks squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as she heard Ollie start to violently protest the moment her husband had noticed Ollie still in the bedroom and had not hesitated to seize him by the scruff of his sweater and start to drag him towards the door.

"What the hell are you doing, Lupin?" Ollie barked, shirking away from Lupin's ironclad grip, or attempting it, and failing, as the werewolf's hold on the sleeves of his black woolen sweater was unusually strong. "I—I'm staying! I'm not going to leave her!" he bellowed, raising his voice.

Tonks blinked owlishly at the scene unfolding before her, deciding that now was as good a time as any to step in, upon sensing the growing danger and the animosity that burned as a smoldering fathomless rage in Ollie's eyes.

"Ol," she began somewhat hesitantly, breaking her silence as she took a cautious half step into her and Remus's spare bedroom for guests, "you cannot stay. Let Remus and I heal her _alone_ , Ollie." She shot her best mate what she hoped was an apologetic look and gingerly placed her hands on his shoulders, steering him toward the door. "C'mon," she murmured, leaning forward slightly, and whispering it into the shell of his ear. "You don't need to be here for this, Ol. It would only hurt you."

"But I—" Ollie began, violently wanting to protest, however, this time, it was Remus who cut him off and prevented him from speaking further.

"Norah would _not_ want you to see her this way, Ollie," Lupin said airily, the edges of his voice hardened, clipped, the last vestiges of his patience tested as he silently dared the former Slytherin and Obscurus to challenge his and Tonks's request, hoping that it would not come to that at all. "And Tonks and I do not have time to argue with you. You need to _leave_. Go with Dora, she'll get you something to eat and drink, get you cleaned up, and I promise we'll do what we can for your partner until the Healer from St. Mungo's arrives, Mr. Brennan," he added, a faint ghost of a smile tugging his lips upward as he gave a curt nod to his wife, a gesture that Tonks returned in agreement.

Remus narrowed his darkening light brown eyes in suspicion and anger, and when Ollie made no move to step over the threshold of the bedroom that led back out into the hallway of the cottage, he growled.

"Get out. _Now_ ," he barked sharply, pointing towards the door.

Ollie shook his head, feeling a wave of cold fear engulf his wretched, miserable body. He could not leave Norah like this. Not in this state. What if something happened to her and he was not here when she needed him?

If she succumbed to her wounds and then she—if she…and he wasn't by her side during? What if this would be the last time he ever saw her? No. He could not leave, he wouldn't. Not when she needed him.

" _No_ ," he growled in a rough, coarse voice that did not sound like his own, and Tonks's angered voice cut through his swirling haze of thoughts. "I'm not leaving, Remus. You cannot force me out."

" _Ollie_." Tonks's voice had only been sharp with him throughout a handful of times in his life, and strangely enough, the last time she had spoken to him like this had been years ago when they were younger.

He blinked owlishly and forced himself to tear his gaze away from the fading young blonde resting on their bed as he heard Tonks attempt to reach him.

"There's nothing else you can do for Norah at this point, Ol. I –I know what it's like, trust me I do. But the best thing we can do for her now is to go downstairs, stay out of Remus and mine's way. Let's...let's get you cleaned up and we'll do what we can."

Ollie huffed in frustration, throttling his urge to roar like an enraged dragon, though upon slowly lifting his chin and meeting Tonks's gaze, he offered a curt nod.

" _Fine_ ," he growled, flinching at how harsh his voice sounded, though before Tonks or Remus could stop him from doing it, Ollie turned on the heel of his boot and knelt at the edge of the bed.

Norah's eyelids had fluttered closed and Norah barely looked alive. A stab of fear pricked at his heartstrings and he swore he tasted bile that had settled on his tongue, though he tampered down his rapidly swelling panic and tried to force himself to remain calm, for Norah's sake. With painstaking, gentle slowness, Ollie leaned over the bed and smoothed back her sweat-soaked blonde bangs off her ashen forehead.

He knelt even lower and whispered into the shell of Norah's ear, low enough so that only she could hear him, if she were even still awake at all.

"I'm not letting you leave me, Nor," he whispered. "Not again. I'll be right here when you wake up, Norah. I promise. You'll be just fine."

Hearing Tonks give a light, impatient cough once to clear her throat, Ollie let out a frustrated groan and rose shakily to his feet, turning on the heel of his boot and allowing Tonks to escort him out of the spare room, Lupin's face was the last thing he saw as the werewolf gently closed the door behind him.

As the door shut, Ollie drew in a sharp breath that pained his lungs, only half-listening as Tonks proceeded to take his arm and escort him down the hallway and into his simple little living room.

Ollie felt a strange cold, a bitter one, settle in his icy, but thawing heart as it threatened to crack and shatter into a million pieces, inspired by the torment of not being allowed to stay in the room with Norah, not knowing if she would survive the nights or if her wounds would claim her.

"It's not your fault, Ollie. Norah doesn't blame you for this," Tonks murmured in a sympathetic voice as she shot Ollie a saddened smile, though before she could speak further, a knock came at the front door and she bolted down the hallway to let the Healer in.

Without so much as a glance back, Tonks escorted the Healer into Ollie's bedroom to help her and Lupin tend to Norah's wounds, with his best friend gently closing the door behind Ollie, leaving the poor man to slump against the wall in despair and bury his head in his hands while he waited for news of his girlfriend's condition.

_Oh, gods_ , he thought despairingly. _What have I done…?_

* * *

Ollie, two hours later, was not sure how much of this he could take, as he restlessly paced the floorboards of the hall outside their room. The door was open as the Healer from St. Mungo's stood in the doorway, and Ollie caught sight of the blonde witch's form on their bed, disturbingly still and hidden from his line of sight.

"Mr. Brennan. A moment of your time, sir. I believe," began the Head Healer as he removed his glasses as he turned to look Ollie in the eyes as the man became stock still as he looked at the Healer, in a slow and monotone voice, "that your partner is lucky to be alive. Her shoulder and back will need tending to, of course, but that is not where the majority of my concerns lie. Whatever the werewolf did to her stomach is…concerning. I must caution you, sir, this is a very serious injury," he continued, making somber eye contact with the Legilimens.

He stepped aside to allow Tonks and Lupin to exit the bedroom and move to stand next to Ollie as a show of supporting their friend.

"Her wounds will need to be cleaned, the dressings changed, but none of this can prevent infection from occurring and it's highly likely Miss Jameson will develop a fever as a result of all of this, sir. Nothing is for certain," continued the Healer, his voice for the first time since his arrival to the house call revealing signs of sympathy as he noticed the three friends exchange a dark look with one another. "She will need constant supervision, not just on my part, but from you lot as well. It will be a trying few days, and you must be prepared."

"What can we do to help?" asked Ollie cautiously, unable to keep the note of desperation from seeping into his tone, and he did not react to Tonks's gentle touch as she laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You have done all of the correct things, thus far, Mr. Brennan, I am impressed," said the Healer. "However, this is one more matter that I must address my concerns with you right now, if I might…"

Ollie mutely nodded, staring at the Healer from St. Mungo's with a strangely serene look in his eyes, and it seemed an eternity before the Head Healer spoke again, taking a moment to polish the lenses of his glasses on his lime green robes before slipping them back onto the bridge of his nose and on his face as he fixed Ollie with a pointed stare that the Legilimens thought rather akin to pity.

The Healer gathered his briefcase and turned on the heel of his boots to go, while Lupin quickly murmured under his breath, he would escort him out and to the edge of the property to safely Disapparate.

"Your partner, Mr. Brennan, she is pregnant with your child."

Ollie froze, feeling his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach as he watched Lupin escort the Healer out.

" _What_?" he stammered, just as Tonks poked her head inside the door to Ollie's bedroom, stating that Norah had regained consciousness, was asking for Ollie.


	26. His Proposal

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

The storm in Norah's mind raged like the rain that had started to patter against the window of Ollie's bedroom as the fog slowly lifted from her vision. A horrible, numbing cold infected every fiber of her body. Her mind was not ready to focus on the future, and yet, she felt like she had no choice.

Norah needed to ingest this further. She was _pregnant_ , and Norah was not exactly sure how she felt about it, nine months after Wes and Jax's deaths. She struggled, grunting with the effort to prop herself up against the mountain of pillows against her head and sit upright, the cold silk of the pillowcases somehow soothing her burning fiery skin.

Would she be able to love her and Ollie's baby, forgetting about the circumstances that she had joined up with Ollie, because she had mourned the loss of Wes and, perhaps it had always been Ollie who'd held her heart, but Wes had gotten to her first and hadn't hesitated in asking her out?

Ollie had always been shy and too damn polite for his own good. Would she be able to accept it as her own, to love it unconditionally and wholly, and not see this child as a replacement for the one that she had so cruelly lost at Greyback's claws?

But it would be her own flesh and blood. Entirely hers to love and to love her back unconditionally. Pure love, untainted by the cold, harsh world around them.

This baby would be hers, and Ollie's, as much of a Jameson as it was only possible, considering her and Ollie weren't married. It would be a part of her wholly. She wanted to deliver her child normally, to look at its tiny hands and feet, to hold it close to her heart, and love it as much as she was possible.

Norah uttered a hoarse, raspy laugh as her blue eyes started watering. The young werewolf was going to be a mother again, this time, with no looming threat of Greyback and his ways to threaten its existence.

Though the Healer's words made her uncomfortable, that she was going to have to take it extremely easy for the next nine months, especially even more so while her wounds healed, Norah was quick to realize she wanted to see the joy again, and for Ollie's smile once he learned the truth to shock her as much as it had the first time she had kissed him.

There was a strangely pleasant tingling sensation welling in her stomach, though Norah wasn't sure if it attributed to the Calming Draught and Sleeping Draught the Healer had administered to her in order to numb the pain and send her into sleep, though she pointedly refused to allow herself to succumb to her desire to rest until she talked to Ollie.

She propped herself up straighter on her mountain of pillows and glanced down at her stomach. Even though it was still quite flat, there seemed to be the usual changes, different ones, associated with it. It looked…womanlier, she guessed. Though certain parts of her were oversensitive, she stared at her, appraising her body, wondering if she was ready for this. Norah collapsed her head back against the pillow, thinking.

Would their child be a boy or a girl? Norah blinked, sanguinely lifting her gaze the moment their bedroom door creaked open and Ollie stood gingerly in the doorway, observing her in a worried manner. She could tell he was upset, though hopefully not with her keeping this a secret from him for the last few weeks.

She hadn't meant to tell him this way, and certainly not in a physical condition that was on the brink, but she hoped that Ollie would be able to understand. She had wanted to wait until she was absolutely sure to tell him the news. She blinked rapidly, trying to fight against the fatigue that threatened to consume.

"Ollie," she breathed, her voice breaking.

He nodded, an impassive expression on his face, though Norah was not fooled. She knew the man well enough. His blue eyes practically glistened with unshed tears as he turned his head to the side to cough once to clear his throat.

"I took the liberty of coming inside, Nor, since you didn't answer," he muttered, not bothering to linger in the doorway and closed off the gap of space between the two of them with a quicker speed that the young blonde could manage to keep up with and knelt at the edge of their bed on the floor, reaching up and gripping onto one of her bandaged hands and gave it a light squeeze, not enough to hurt, but enough to reinforce his intended message that he was not going anywhere, not leaving her alone.

As Norah had expected and had been anticipating it, he had come to hear her confirmation for himself, and to check on the severity of her wounds. Looking at Ollie as the man made no move to get up from his spot on the floor, silently asking for the truth, Norah felt a vent of affection flood through her veins for the dark-haired, blue-eyed man on the floor.

"Norah?" he questioned. He rose from his spot on the hardwood floor and perched himself at the edge of the bed so his girlfriend would not have to strain forward so much to see him better and risk injuring herself. "You're awake," Ollie breathed, gazing at the young blonde werewolf, as though he had never seen anything quite like her.

Norah smiled weakly, though even that hurt, considering the number of scrapes and bruises, the aftermath of Greyback's attack, that lined her face, unable to help but smile at the man.

"I didn't plan to stay asleep forever, Ollie. Not when you and I have a life to live," she murmured, her hand ghosting down to rest on the flat of her stomach. "I—there's something I have to tell you. I'm _pregnant_ , Ollie," she whispered, tears welling in her ears. "I—I _wanted_ to tell you, but…I wanted to be sure of it first," she confessed, a pained look in her eyes.

Ollie sat, staring at her for a moment, reaching out with his hand and felling her stomach, barely allowing the pads of his fingertips to graze the bandages the Healer had bound her wounds with. His face registered his surprise, shock, and awe.

"A—a baby," he stammered, unsure if he had heard her correctly. Norah nodded the affirmative, not sure what to say. "Y—You're _sure_ about this?" he asked, his pleading blue eyes piercing her soul, and Norah wasn't sure what to make of this.

"The—the Healer said I'm about two months along."

Ollie remained silent for a moment, freeing his hands, and lifting one to her cheek, gently caressing it in an absent-minded way. Norah still felt as though she were in too much pain and vulnerable to be having this conversation right now so immediately after the Healer from St. Mungo's had been through her with her, though considering Ollie knew, there was no time like the present, and she knew if they didn't talk through it now, they probably never would. She swallowed down hard and waited.

Right now, however, the gentle way he caressed her face and stomach, she felt as if Ollie were the more vulnerable one, not her.

She noticed all the small details. The way he squeezed tightly onto her hands, clinging to her like a lifeline as if he were afraid that if he let go, he'd never have her again or the tender way he caressed her cheek spoke of his relief that Greyback hadn't killed her.

"How do you feel about it?" Ollie asked hoarsely after a moment, his thumb sliding down to her jaw and he paused it.

Norah paused, not having anticipated that would have been the question that she would have asked. Good, that much was true.

"I'm happy," she answered, allowing a faint ghost of a smile to flit across her cracked and bruised lips. "A—are _you_?" she asked. Ollie merely gazed at Norah for a moment, this eerie icy-blue stare of his reaching deep into her soul, seeking the truth. "How do _you_ feel about it, Ol? We never—we never talked about it," she murmured, deciding to throw Ollie's question back at him, looking at him with the same icy-blue intensity, wanting the truth.

She drew in an abated breath and waited for his answer. The corners of Ollie's mouth twitched upwards in a smile, one of several she had seen on the man since she had gone with him, of her own volition, not wanting to be alone after her husband and son's deaths, and it was the second she had seen this evening.

Ollie's thumb slowly outlined the edges of her lips, and Norah couldn't repress the shudder of anticipation that went down and up her back at the sudden, unexpected intimate gesture. Hesitating no longer, Ollie scooped Norah into his arms and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, careful to be mindful of her injuries, though he realized what he had done.

Almost as quickly as he had embraced her, Ollie pulled away. "I—I'm glad, Norah. More than you know," he whispered, suddenly glancing at the young wolf with a furtive, guilty look. His face registered his alarm at his unexpected actions. "Did I—did I hurt you?" Ollie begged, his hand drifting to settle over her stomach.

Norah laughed out loud, unable to help it.

"No." she beamed. "I'm…we're fine, Ol," she reassured, her hand rubbing his hair.

Ollie nodded, sinking to his knees on the floor again as the last vestiges of his strength left him, his face paling as he pulled Norah to him. He lowered his face and wrapped his arms around her, placing his lips tenderly against her stomach.

Then, without waiting for Norah to ask him what the Legilimens thought he was doing, he closed his eyes and pressed his ear to her abdomen, straining as if he thought he could hear the tiny heartbeat of their baby inside of his beloved girlfriend.

Enjoying the raw emotions he was showcasing in front of her, Norah smiled and cradled his head against hers. She felt a single tear of joy seep from his eye and run down her skin. The two allowed themselves to be lost in their affection for one another for Merlin only knew how long.

Ollie's bright blue eyes grew wide once more as another worry occurred to him. He bolted to his feet and looked earnestly into his face.

"Oh, Merlin's Beard. I-I forgot! Your—your family," he murmured. "We—we aren't…" His voice trailed off as he gazed into the intensity of his girlfriend's eyes. "What—what would they say to…to all of this?"

The fire flickered in Norah Jameson's icy-blue eyes. The werewolf was not about to be swayed.

"They _will_ accept you, and our baby into the family, if they ever want to see me again," she added in a hardened voice. Surely, he would see her logic of this.

When Norah looked up at Ollie, her eyes were filled with tears. As she raised her face, salty, briny tears slid down from behind her lids and trailed down her pale cheeks in gentle tracts.

Norah was suddenly overcome with shame at the overwhelming emotion of love she felt for the man in front of her, amazed at the depths of love he felt for her, how far he would go.

She looked intently at Ollie and her pained expression worried him. "What is it? I—is something wrong? Is it… the baby?" he whispered hoarsely, his hand instinctively drifting to the flat of her stomach. "What's wrong?" he pleaded desperately.

"I—I have to ask you something, Ollie," Norah prefaced nervously, suddenly finding it increasingly difficult to look in his eyes. When he nodded mutely in response, she found herself suddenly unable to look at him and instead out the window. "I… _hurt_ you, Ollie," she whispered, her voice betraying the regret that she felt when she spoke. "Back when we were students at Hogwarts together…that night…when you—you got yourself expelled to save me from getting into trouble with those kids…"

Her words caught and halted in her throat as she recalled images of Ollie's face and realized he had been heartbroken the night in Professor Dumbledore's office when the Headmaster had gravely announced that, though Ollie had saved her life, he had no choice but to expel him for the violent way he'd reacted towards the other students who had been teasing and torturing Norah.

"I _hurt_ you…didn't I? When I…when I chose Wes over you…" she said. Norah could no longer hold back her tears. She struggled to free her hands from Ollie's grasp, no longer feeling worthy to hold onto the man who was the father of their child growing inside her any longer, but his grip remained steadfast. He didn't let her go.

Ollie squeezed onto her fingers tighter, minding the gauze of her bandages, trying his hardest to reassure Norah that he was right here where he was standing, not about to go anywhere.

"Of course, my heart was broken when you chose…" Ollie swallowed hard as he trailed off, unwilling to speak the other man's name over his time with Norah. But he knew he had to show her why none of that, none of her past life mattered now. "I loved you." He smiled, remembering every moment he had watched her from afar, hoping that one day, she'd see sense. "Yes, I wanted you to choose me, Nor, but…" Ollie paused, unsure whether or not he should continue, and decided that, in the end, he could not lie to the woman who was to be the mother of his child. "It was your choice to make. It was _always_ yours," he affirmed. "But more than that, I just wanted you to be happy. Even if that meant you were happy with someone else, Norah."

Staring intently at Jameson, his vow attested to the strength of his love. Norah's gaze found Ollie's adoring bright-blue eyes, and held it for a long while, uncertain of how to speak the next thought that troubled her. Ollie noticed the sadness sweep over her face again. "What is it?" he prodded. "Tell me," he begged. "If it's about… _him_ …don't worry about it." He kissed her temple and pulled her close, so she rested against his chest. "I don't give a damn who got to you first, Jameson," Ollie murmured, whispering it into the shell of her ear as he pulled back to look her straight in the eye. "As long as I'm the last, Norah," he joked. It was his blue eyes now that pleaded with the young blonde werewolf. "I would have waited a thousand lifetimes for you. I hope you know that."

He raised his knuckles to his lips, not caring they were bandaged and bruised and bleeding and kissed them tenderly.

Norah raised her eyes hopefully to him.

"Then…" she hesitated, biting her bottom lip. "Does that mean…" she faltered, tripping over her words as a light pink blush speckled on her cheeks, giving them a rosy complexion Ollie decided he liked.

"That I love you?" Ollie finished for her, as the smile on his face slowly faltered and his expression grew quite solemn and serious, no hint of joking in his crystalline blue eyes as his very gaze felt like it was penetrating deep into her soul and heart.

He gently took Norah's face in his rough, calloused hands as he smiled tenderly.

"Yes. More than ever," he told her with a soft smile. Ollie fell silent and allowed one of his hands to ghost down her cheek, her collarbones, and settled on the flat of her stomach.

He blew out a deep, shaking breath to calm his nerves as he caressed Norah's cheek and stared into her eyes so deeply, he felt for certain he could see Norah Jameson's fiery soul, her spirit.

Ollie gazed upon the woman who held his heart with anticipation. "When our baby is born, love, I was hoping that we could ask Dora and Remus to be his or her godparents," he said.

Norah nodded, a light smile snaking its way on her face.

"I can think of no one better," she agreed, resting her head against the crook of Ollie's shoulder, though she pulled away when she felt Ollie shift slightly uncomfortably in her embrace.

She furrowed her brows into a light frown as she noticed the sudden shift in the man's countenance, unsure of Ollie's change.

"What is it?" Norah asked, feeling a pit beginning to form uncomfortably in her churning stomach as he stepped back.

Ollie considered Norah's question in silence a moment before seemingly finding his words and his voice again, and when he spoke, his tone was solemn and serious, with no hint of the usual mischievousness she had so fondly remembered from their days as students at Hogwarts together. No. Tonight, he was different.

"It was my hope that our—our baby…would take my surname," lifting his gaze and registering the shock dawning on the young blonde's face. "And remains my hope that my child's mother would accept it as well." He looked at her with no small amount of anticipation and hope brimming as unshed moisture in his bright blue eyes. "Marry me, Norah," he pleaded breathlessly.

Norah drew in a sharp breath that pained her lungs as he dug into the pockets of his jeans and uncurled her hand and set in a simple but elegant silver wedding band in the palm of her hand.

Gleefully, she nodded, as she briefly glanced down at the piece of jewelry in her hand and back up to Ollie and allowed the man to slip the ring onto her left ring finger. She said the only thing she could, the only right answer left within her to give.

"Yes." Norah was surprised she could even find her voice as she choked it out through the tears welling in her blue eyes again.

She caught herself staring at Ollie's lips and he noticed it as well, his observant blue eyes scrutinizing the expression on her face. Before she realized what was happening, their lips met as he caught her head in his hands and kissed her. Norah had been kissed before by Wes, but it felt nothing quite like _this_.

_This_ had clear intentions, _this_ had fire, love, that radiated from both sides. Ollie held her strongly against him, his hand landing between her neck and jawline, his thumb caressing her cheek as he deepened their kiss, slanting her head to the side, forcing Norah to let him take the lead. The kiss was not long at all, but brief and passionate, yet still enough to manage to leave Norah feeling breathless when Ollie finally withdrew from the embrace.

She stared down at her now-fiancé's mouth, panting, and Ollie watched silently, still caressing her face with a gentle touch. Ollie was looking thoroughly ecstatic as he reached for her bandaged hand and gave it a gentle but reassuring little squeeze.

"We should go to tell Lupin and Tonks our news. They'll want to know you're going to be all right," Ollie added thoughtfully.

Norah nodded her agreement, leaning heavily against Ollie's side for support as he wrapped one arm around her waist for support to help her as she limped her way to their bedroom door.

Both of them shared a small laugh before filing their way out of the bedroom and making their way to Ollie's simple living room, where their friends sat on the sofa, Teddy in their arms.

"Guys," Norah breathed, exhaling slowly through her nose, lifting her chin to stare at Lupin and Tonks' flabbergasted faces at the sight of the young blonde up out of bed so soon, given the severe extent of her injuries.

She glanced sideways at Ollie out of the corner of her eye, who gave a curt little nod and a reassuring smile.

"We have news. Ollie and I…we're getting married."


	27. A Father's Blessing

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

Tonks wasn't sure she could ever recall a time when she'd seen her best mate this flustered over a woman, but then again, it wasn't every day he got engaged, either. Or when they all were heading towards Norah's family's home to meet her parents and announce the news.

She and Lupin had happily agreed to support Ollie in escorting Norah home to her parents, to a small town just outside Sussex, and had left baby Teddy in the care of her mother for the day. As they wound through the quaint medieval-looking village's side streets, the throng of inhabitants, other witches, and wizards, began to notice them. Snippets of shocked chatter reached Norah and Lupin's wolfish hearing, sadly.

"That's Jameson," a woman's voice recognized the petite blonde werewolf's form as she pointedly and swiftly led the way, unfazed by the talk and gossip behind her back, never once relinquishing her firm grip on Ollie's left hand.

"Elias's daughter," a man commented, shocked and dazed. "With…a…a Death Eater? Is that… Merlin's Beard, it's Jack's boy," he gasped, and the note of fear caused his baritone voice to warble and the street practically parted like the Red bloody Sea at this news, seeing the werewolf and son of a Death Eater holding hands, all of them utterly terrified.

Tonks felt the anger begin to well up within her, and her lips parted open slightly to speak, though she froze and halted in her movements the moment she felt Remus's hand come up to grip her shoulder. She blinked, startled out of her reverie as she looked toward Lupin with a furtive, guilty look.

Had she really been _that_ obvious? Her beloved husband's currently admonishing look told Tonks yes.

"No," he whispered in a curt voice, but not unkind. " _Don't_ , it's not our fight, sweetheart. Just let it go, please," Remus pleaded, his gaze drifting back toward their friends.

Tonks swallowed back the lump in her throat and numbly nodded, wishing that the world was different. That werewolves weren't so stigmatized. She let out a tired sigh and looked towards Norah and quickened her pace.

Norah, for her part, felt the anger begin to well up within her chest. These witches and wizards she had been raised among since she was a little girl, before the bite that had changed her life, once again, gawked behind her back. It was the same rage that fired her heart as when they turned away from her in fear, or actively averted her gaze whenever she did venture into town with her beloved father.

They thought her and Remus's condition a plague, that they would somehow become a wolf-like them just by touching her or even exchanging a single look. It was taboo.

This time, however, it was not shame that burned within her, but fierce pride and protectiveness for her fiancé.

How _dare_ they act as if the man she loved was something of which she ought to be ashamed for bringing here? They did not know Ollie the way she did, and the very concept of him being a Death Eater made her almost laugh.

"I'm sorry, Ollie," Norah whispered to Ollie, her embarrassment at the other neighbors in her father's village forcing an unwanted blush to her face as they all walked.

Ollie rolled his eyes and chuckled in good-natured jest. "It doesn't bother me, Norah. Do you really think I haven't heard those types of comments before, from other people, in other places in my life?" he questioned, amused at his fiancée's reaction. "They don't bother me at all, and you shouldn't let them get to you, Nor. These people, they're nothing to us. Don't listen to them. It will only upset you." He lightly brushed a stray wisp of blonde hair back behind her ear as if to wipe away the redness on her cheeks. Norah smiled in understanding at Ollie, amazed by the man's strength, thinking he should have been a Gryffindor when the two of them were at Hogwarts.

Ollie said nothing further by way of response, merely pulling Norah close and allowing her head to rest against the crook of his shoulder. "People always love to talk, Norah," he added, glancing back over behind his shoulder to check that Lupin and Tonks were catching up and not lagging behind. He rolled his eyes. Then those same bright blue eyes sparkled with terrible mischief that would not have occurred to the young blonde werewolf before Ollie had re-entered into her life post-Hogwarts. "Then why don't we _give_ them something to talk about?" he glared seductively.

Norah felt the beginnings of a smirk tug at her mouth and she smiled as Tonks and Lupin moved to flank either side of her, as if in a protective manner, preventing any of her parents' neighbors in the medieval village of Sussex from getting to the young werewolf or to Ollie at all.

She snorted and returned the gesture.

"What did you have in mind, Ol?" she questioned, acting as if she couldn't imagine what Ollie was thinking.

Ollie's playful smirk widened as he took two swift steps forward and lowered his face to hers, resting his lips against hers, cradling her head in his hands, his other arm tightening almost possessively around her waist, careful to be mindful of her injuries.

Norah could feel him fighting against the effort to grin into their kiss as the astonished, horrified gasps of the crowd at seeing a werewolf embrace a human man who came from a less-than-dignified family were almost worth the public display of affection.

And when they pulled apart, the smiles on both of their faces told each other just how much the public display of affection had satisfied them.

The moment the small group began to walk down the dirt path over a particularly grassy knoll that Norah said led to her family's home, they all became aware of two wizards watching the lot with great interest. Before they had even moved, both strange men turned on the heels of their shoes and Disapparated with a loud _crack_! Norah sighed and jerked her head towards the men's swift retreats.

"No doubt those two are reporting what just happened to my _vater_ ," she sighed in an exasperated tone, shaking her head in amusement.

Norah looked towards Ollie, Lupin, and Tonks with a twisted sneer on her pale features. "Nothing happens in this village that my _vater_ does not know about. I wonder what he's going to say…"

The young blonde werewolf fell silent as her voice trailed off as they continued walking up the knoll that she claimed led to her father's small home. Ollie squinted at the sky above their heads.

He had never seen anything so bright in his life, save for Norah's eyes. The sapphire skies were rivaled only by the sky's striking blue depths, yes.

Ollie turned his attention back to his fiancée as they walked. She might not have been aware of it for herself, but Norah was smiling. The pleasant, relaxed manner she radiated made him feel less nervous, and he could tell by just one glance over at Dora and Remus, that they too were content here.

As they rounded the corner, Norah's family home came into view. The small cottage was perched on the plain near the woods, so old and poor that it was surprising how it was still standing. And yet it seemed alive and welcoming, a warm ribbon of smoke rising from the old chimney.

The walls were made of the same wood and the roof was clearly stone, so old that it was a wonder how it did not yet cave in.

The cottage was the only thing there. There were no other houses around it, and this one would have looked abandoned if not for the smoke.

Elias Jameson was already waiting for the new arrivals to his home at the top of his front porch, the same two strange men the group had seen Disapparate flanking him at a distance, with cautious looks on their lined and weathered faces.

Norah quickened her pace and smiled at her father as they approached, genuinely happy to see him. Ollie stopped alongside Remus a few feet from Norah's father, and swallowed down hard past the lump in his throat, hoping he'd make a good enough first impression, considering the circumstances. Not even Lupin's hand that came to rest on his shoulder and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze was enough to calm his racing heartbeats.

"My little girl," Elias proclaimed, holding out his hands and not hesitating to sweep his only daughter, only child, into a protective embrace.

" _Vater_ , it has been too long. You never write," Norah exclaimed happily, tears of relief finding her eyes. She didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around his neck, embracing Elias joyfully.

Her father offered a small nod, making a noncommittal grunting noise at the back of his throat as he relinquished his hold on Norah, as his gaze flitted towards the others, patiently waiting, and allowing the father and daughter to have a moment. It had been so long since his Norah visited, but he could not help but wonder between the bond between his precious girl and the dark-haired, blue-eyed stranger, currently eyeing his daughter as though nothing else really mattered.

The man stood quietly in the background, his hands folded neatly behind his back, though Elias wasn't fooled. The younger man was nervous.

Elias furrowed his brows into a light frown and turned back towards Norah.

"Your friends," here, he glanced towards Lupin and Tonks with a grateful look, silently trying to thank the pair of them for what they had done the last few days by sending constant owls with updates of his daughter's condition to his home, "sent word ahead that you were almost killed by Greyback," Elias Jameson barked in a hoarse, rough sounding voice, his grip on his daughter's shoulder tightening more. "You have no _idea_ how out of my mind with worry I was. I almost lost you, Norah," he lamented painfully, squeezing his eyes shut and giving his head a light little shake to try to clear away the ghastly image and gruesome thought from his mind. He looked towards Lupin and Tonks. "Thank you both for my daughter's life. It would appear that I am forever in your debt."

"Mr. Jameson, don't be ridiculous," Tonks interjected brightly, a kind smile etched on her pale face as she stepped forward and latched her hand around Norah's forearm, sensing the journey had tired her friend out greatly and she needed to rest.

Lupin glanced at his wife out of the corner of his eye and stepped forward to join Tonks's side.

"Mr. Jameson, you owe us nothing, but…" Here, he paused and glanced at Norah's tired form with a small measure of concern. "Your daughter is still recovering and needs to rest. Is there a—" he started to ask, but Norah's father immediately held up a hand to cut Remus off and shot him a smile.

"Inside, head to the back hallway, first door on the left is Norah's room. And thank you," he said again, slowly swiveling his head to watch as Lupin and Tonks nodded and both individuals moved to either side of Norah and gripped onto her arm, helping her limp her way up the front steps of his cottage, giving her stomach wounds still healed.

It was a moment before Ollie and Elias Jameson were left alone to their own devices.

Elias glanced at the young man out of the corner of his eyes, sensing he and his daughter were close, though how close, the aging wizard intended to find out. "Follow me, boy," he barked gruffly, motioning with a wave of his arm for Ollie to follow him around the small cottage to the backyard, towards the edge of the woods that bordered onto his property. Ollie bristled silently.

He was not a man who was used to being told to do. The last time Ollie had taken an order had been from Lupin, and even then, it was within his best interests as the order had saved Norah's life.

Ollie swallowed hard and shoved down the annoyance that flared within him. This was Norah's father, after all. He'd have to learn how to give the man his accustomed authority if he were going to ask the man for permission to marry his daughter.

When they reached the edge of the woods, Elias Jameson finally spoke up. "I heard you saved my daughter's life," he announced in a somewhat judging and condescending tone as Ollie looked back towards the house, wishing he were inside by Norah's side but knew Remus and Dora were taking excellent care of her even as they spoke.

Ollie felt no taller than a pebble stuck to Norah's father's boot. Whatever her father's abhorrent opinion of him, it could be no worse than what Ollie already thought of himself. He would never escape the notion that he should have done more to save Norah's life from Greyback.

He could not bring his eyes to face her father. "I—I should have done more for her, sir. If I'd gotten there in time, maybe I could have…I killed him," he tried to explain, not to excuse his actions, but to begin to hope he could earn Elias's trust. "I should have done more. I know that, sir."

He shook his head in regret, letting out a sigh and carding his fingers through his black hair.

"Greyback hurt my little girl. She will always be my little girl, Mr. Brennan," Elias hissed, moving a hard step closer towards Ollie in his growing rage.

"He's dead. I killed the wolf myself," Ollie announced, unable to keep the satisfaction from his voice. He nervously shifted the knapsack he carried on his back, before removing it and plunking the bag at Norah's father's feet. "See for yourself, sir."

He'd gone back the night of Norah's attack and removed the wolf's wretched head from his body against Norah and Lupin and Tonks' knowledge. Elias fell silent and studied the parcel that Ollie had disregarded so dispassionately.

The news of Fenrir Greyback's murder had traveled all the way to Sussex only a day after its occurrence. Elias was well aware, thanks to Remus Lupin's latest letter, how Fenrir had been killed.

He was also quick to notice the absence of any emotion other than immense satisfaction within the object of Norah's affections as Ollie's blue eyes burning bright with a smoldering rage met Elias's, somewhat defiantly, unwavering.

He knew Ollie Brennan had been the one to dispose of the wizarding world of the savage beast, and that the bag the dark-haired man had just dropped at their feet contained his missing head.

Norah's father said nothing, at least at first. Something in Ollie's tone as he confessed his regret and pain at not having been able to do more to get to Norah on time to prevent Fenrir from hurting her, the suffering in his glistening blue eyes, told Elias that the man was trustful and honest when he swore of his wish to protect his sweet, lovely Norah.

He understood that the black sheep of the Brennan family, the only man in the entire line not to become one of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's followers, loathed himself for what she'd endured.

Elias decided he believed the younger man's heartfelt confession.

"You love my Norah," he said, choosing his words slowly and carefully, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, watching as the man jumped and blinked owlishly towards Elias in shock.

Ollie nodded eagerly. "With everything that I am, sir, though I may not be much at all." He looked towards Elias, and the honesty with which he spoke moved the older man and spoke volumes.

Norah's father regarded Ollie proudly. "It touches this old man's heart to see the devotion you have towards my daughter. She has not an easy life, you know, with…her condition," he said slowly.

"I _love_ your daughter," Ollie told Elias earnestly. "Somehow, your daughter has the rare gift to see me as the man I always hoped I'd become. She makes me want to be that man, for her. And…" He paused, blowing out a shaking, albeit nervous breath, painfully twisting his fingers together. "She—she's pregnant. We're going to become parents," he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Elias fell silent for several long moments as he processed the younger man's words before the edges of his mouth twitched upward and he gave Ollie a satisfying nod. "I have waited a long time for someone to see my precious girl for what she truly is, to give her the love and admiration she deserves. The fact that you understand what a rare treasure my Norah is, in spite of her condition, and you consider yourself woefully inadequate to have been gifted with her love and affection is exactly why I am certain you're the only man on this entire planet who is worthy of Norah."

Ollie nodded, understanding that Elias Jameson was giving his consent for the life that he had dreamed of with Norah, and he was not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

"I want to marry Norah, Mr. Jameson. I swear to you that I will never let anyone hurt Norah. I will cherish and treasure her, always. She will only know love and happiness as long as she and I are together. I can give you my word, sir."

Ollie raised his eyes and stared intently into Elias's own, watching, searching his eyes for the truth, praying that Norah's father would say yes.

Ollie heard Elias Jameson take in a long, deep breath, considering the younger wizard's words. After a moment that seemed an eternity, Norah's father spoke. "Look me in the eyes, boy."

Ollie nervously complied, anxious for the man's answer. He bit his bottom lip and waited.

"You've made the depths of your love for my daughter abundantly clear to me. I can say without any hesitation on my part, that there is no one else in all of Great Britain with whom I would allow my daughter to marry, not since her Wes. There is no other that I consider worthy of her affections, but you." Elias smiled at the way Ollie's shoulders slumped in relief, and his posture straightened, and the man walked a little taller, held himself more confidently than he had before. "Yes, Mr. Brennan," Elias answered. "I give my consent."

His tone was relaxed and sure, his eyes proud and warm. He realized that he had not only just given everything Ollie had ever wanted for himself, but he'd given Norah her heart's desire as well, though he had a feeling she already knew that.

Elias's smile faltered only slightly as he glanced down at the rotting parcel at their feet.

"Though, I _do_ hope if you were planning to present Greyback's head to me as some sort of…peace offering between the two of us, then you intended to do so in something more fitting than this reeking, decrepit bag of yours, son," he joked.

Ollie glanced down at the bag at their feet, pursing his lips into a thin line, and, before he lost his resolve, drew back his foot and hefted the bag deep into the woods, where it flew beyond their line of sight. Norah's father blinked in surprise, stunned at Norah's fiancé's brash behavior in disposing of Greyback's head, but shook it off.

"Ah, well, that's one way to do it," he murmured under his breath and clapped Ollie on the back and steered him back towards his cottage. "I knew there was a reason my Norah always liked you, even in school. She spoke of you a lot."

Ollie nodded and fell into step alongside Norah's father as the older man launched into a happy, animated conversation, but Ollie allowed his mind to drift as he thought of Norah and his friends inside, thinking that this was the happiest he had felt in a long time, and he would not change it for the world.

* * *

*** _Vater_ =German for Father :)**


	28. New Beginnings

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

Tonks shifted baby Teddy in her arms, trying desperately to keep their son quiet while Lupin stood alongside Ollie in a pair of slightly tattered, yet well-cared for black dress robes that Tonks had done her best to mend the frayed edges, though the proud wife and new mother still thought her husband looked handsome while they waited for Norah to be escorted down the aisle by her father, Elias.

Tonks let out a sigh, tucking back a stray wisp of her chin-length light caramel brown wavy hair flecked with golden highlights that she had changed her hair to for Ollie and Norah's wedding, and glanced down at her outfit. Long black wrap maxi dress with fluttery sleeves and an embroidered tie at the waistline. Flattering enough but still respectable for the intimate ceremony. She chuckled as she caught Remus eyeing Ollie tiredly.

This had to be the tenth or so time her best mate had sighed dramatically and nervously shifted his footing, thinking Norah wasn't coming.

Everyone in attendance was all gathered in the backyard of the Jameson family residence, mostly close friends of Elias's, people who had been friends to Norah growing up, standing in wait for the bride and her father to make their entrance. Tonks curiously cast her gaze about the faces in the tiny crowd, searching for anyone she knew.

The young witch caught sight of Sirius standing alongside Arthur and Molly, and Florean Fortescue, and beside them stood Andromeda, looking rather proud, though Tonks knew she was proud of her only daughter for overcoming such a difficult burden.

Mrs. Tonks had been furious at first, to learn of what had happened to Dora following the night Remus had accidentally bitten her, but once Mrs. Tonks had come to their home in Wales following a few days after Greyback's death and had seen how most of Tonks's life, save for that, remained unchanged, she relented a bit.

Tonks and Lupin had both been offered positions at Hogwarts by Professor Dumbledore himself, who had graciously agreed to officiate the ceremony for Ollie and Norah this fine evening.

The students, according to Dumbledore, had clamored for Remus's return to teach the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, and Lupin had accepted, but only on the condition that his wife is provided work as well, considering they both now had Teddy to support and think of, and Tonks would be joining Remus in September to live in Hogwarts as one of the school's official Aurors.

Aside from the few that they collectively knew here in attendance, there were many Tonks was not familiar with and even fewer werewolves like them, which were few in number but still present.

Wolves who had come out of hiding following Greyback's death, who'd not supported their Alpha but who'd been too entirely scared to speak out against for fear of what would happen.

Some had come to support Norah, some, sad to say, had come solely for a glimpse at Teddy, as Remus and Tonks were the first ones ever to defy the social norm among their kind to ever mate, and she hoped that by seeing her son unaffected with their now-shared lycanthropy, it would encourage other wolves like them to not be afraid to start their own families.

_Like Norah and Ollie are_ , she thought affectionately, a soft smile snaking its way onto her face as she thought of the two becoming parents in another seven months, wondering if they would have a girl or a boy, hoping that no matter what, Teddy would have a friend to grow up alongside.

Tonks swiveled her gaze back around as her ears perked up as Ollie whispered something to Remus. "How much longer, do you think, Lupin?" Ollie leaned forward as far as he was possibly able to without drawing unwanted attention to whisper into the shell of Lupin's ear. "You don't think Jameson ran off on me, do you?"

Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes at such a ridiculous statement and instead, simply stared straight ahead down the aisle while they waited for the blonde bride to make her entrance.

"Of course not, Ollie, don't be _foolish_."

"But how can you be so sure?" Ollie persisted, his white-boned hands clenching and un-clenching at his sides, the worry and uncertainty in his voice steadily growing the longer they waited.

Lupin opened his mouth to answer Dora's best friend, but at that moment, Elias Jameson and Norah appeared over the edge of the hilltop and had started to make their way slowly down the woodland path that had been lighted with studded lanterns, giving the dirt path before their feet almost an ethereal glow. It was truly magical, yes. The father and daughter slowly made their way towards where Tonks and Ollie and Remus stood, patiently waiting for the ceremony to start.

Lupin's lips curled upwards into a soft, teasing smile, and shot the groom a satisfied smirk.

"Does that not answer your question?" Lupin asked, but it appeared that Ollie Brennan did not hear him.

The raven-haired, blue-eyed Legilimens watched unblinkingly, unstirred, and with great awe as Norah, dressed in a simple flowing chiffon dress with an A-line skirt that just barely hid the fact that she was two months pregnant, approached, small white flowers sprinkled through her short blonde hair.

Though Lupin cast his gaze to his immediate right, and caught sight of his wife, clad in her simple black maxi dress, their son in her arms, and felt his tongue caught in his throat. Her wavy curls hung at chin-length, catching the light of the waning moon, and revealing the hidden strand of gold that were normally shrouded in normal light.

Her pale grey eyes were alive with excitement and a wide smile on her lips as she caught Remus staring at her and playfully winked. He did not even notice the three jagged pink and red scars around the column of Dora's throat, the only evidence that she was a werewolf like him.

Yet, as beautiful as Norah Jameson was, and she was undeniably so on her wedding night, Lupin found the shorter witch seated in the small wooden chair at the front of the aisle to be even more so.

Especially now that she was a mother to their son. He felt his heart rate pick up speed and suddenly, Lupin's hands felt rather clammy and hot. He suddenly felt unsure of himself and glanced down at his attire of slightly tattered and worn black dress robes, wishing they made enough money to buy himself a new set, filing a mental note away in the back of his mind that, once he resumed his teaching post at Hogwarts, that would be on the first purchases he'd make with his new salary, and Tonks with her salary too as an official Auror of the school, could afford whatever her heart desired, and both of them strove to make the world as good a place for their son to grow up in.

Though now he felt he was dressed too plainly tonight.

But Lupin tore his gaze away from that of his own attire and back towards the father and daughter, as Norah finally reached the front, with Elias dressed in a pair of immaculate dark grey dress robes that looked brand-new.

Norah's right arm was linked around Mr. Jameson's left, and Elias's expression was stern but unreadable for several long moments. Norah's father appeared to be boring straight into Ollie's soul as he looked into the man's bright blue eyes, who stood in front of Norah's father to receive his bride, a dawning look of nervousness on his face, much to Lupin and Tonks's amusement and awe.

For a moment, it looked as though Elias Jameson was not about to budge or give an inch. He stood stalk still, his hardened expression stern and utterly unwavering.

Norah, out of the corner of her peripherals, cast her father a worried look, furrowing her brows in a light frown, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other out of a sense of nervousness. Ollie, Merlin bless his soul, Tonks noticed, was beginning to look unsure of himself and unnerved as the seconds turned into a minute or two, and then the frown on Norah's father's face melted away and a wide, genuine grin spread across his weathered features.

"I entrust my little girl to you, Mr. Brennan," muttered Elias Jameson gravely, a hint of his steel in his eyes. "She is and always will be my daughter, first and foremost. If I find her life with you to be an unhappy one, don't think I won't hesitate to take her back, sir. Do not."

Ollie wavered for a moment, faltering in his decision, then steeled himself, clearing his throat as he rose to his full height, a muscle in his jaw twitching as determination and resolve became clear on his features.

"You have my word, Mr. Jameson. I'll ensure her happiness as well as I possibly can. _Both_ of them," he whispered, lowering his voice as with great reverence, Mr. Jameson passed Norah to Ollie and Ollie, with such a gentle tenderness that immediately brought a stray tear or two to Tonks's eyes, rested his right hand on her stomach.

Norah's father gave Ollie a scrutinizing look, raising his eyebrows as he looked his future son-in-law once over before nodding, satisfied with the young man's answer and his determined countenance. "Very well. I give her to you."

He turned on his heel and moved to take the empty seat next to Tonks, glancing over at baby Teddy's bright tuft of bright turquoise hair and letting out a light chuckle.

Tonks smiled and returned her attention to the front, supposed to be paying to Dumbledore acting as the officiant and Norah and Ollie, though her gaze wandered to her husband, standing proudly in his robes on Ollie's right. And as the ceremony began, oddly enough, Tonks would recollect later during the reception, little more than an informal get-together in Mr. Jameson's backyard, she would not remember much of it.

She remembered the words of affirmation and love her best mate and now one of her closest best friends spoke to one another when the time came, but the finer details were wiped from the young werewolf's mind as she held her son, ensuring the baby didn't get fussy at all during Dumbledore officiating.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that Tonks could not take her eyes off of Lupin, who stood on Ollie's right side during the entire time, bestowing the pair of golden rings to Ollie when the time came to exchange the rings.

Perhaps it was the way Remus's hair, his bangs, tended to fall into his eyes whenever he wasn't careful about them, or the way his light brown eyes sparkled with joy for their friends, or the way his smile as he shot her an affectionate glance sent Tonks' heart utterly reeling against its cage.

Maybe it was just sitting here, across from Lupin, at such a pivotal time in their lives, that felt as though it caused all else to cease existing. Whatever the reason might be, only Merlin knew for sure, and the ceremony passed much quicker than Tonks originally thought, and the rings among Norah and Ollie were exchanged and then Ollie and Norah were passionately embracing. They held each other much the same night they first did the night Greyback was killed when her fate was questionable.

Lupin smiled softly as he watched the young blonde werewolf and dark-haired Legilimens hold each other close, thinking the two were going to become wonderful parents to their son or daughter when the time came, and as he glanced behind him, he caught Tonks's own soft expression of joy. In the corners of her pale grey eyes, he saw tears of happiness well up and spill down her cheeks, despite his wife's best efforts to contain them back.

As Ollie and Norah shared their first kiss as husband and wife, Tonks could no longer keep her tears at bay. Before she knew it, they were spilling down her cheeks and falling to the ground beneath her sandals.

The other guests behind Tonks that had come to bear witness to Brennan and Jameson's union cried out in joy and shouts of approval and applause on both sides erupted, and as Tonks rose from her chair with baby Teddy in her arms, she felt one of Remus's strong, calloused hands engulf around one of her own, and Tonks had to crane up her neck to look into her husband's eyes, tears of his own in his eyes, but this time, they were happy.

Tonks looked into Lupin's eyes for what felt like a long time, taking in the man's light brown eyes that reminded her of hot cocoa on a cold winter's day, his light brown hair flecked with bits of premature grey, thanks to a hard life, his scars, every last inch, memorizing his face.

His gentle expression. As different as Remus was, he was hers, and she was his, the gentleness one of his most admirable features, the man's kindness truly heartwarming and utterly unmatched and unbound. No one could quite possibly hold a candle to her husband and father of Teddy.

Tonks knew at this moment, with her son in her arms and her husband by her side, as Lupin gently steered his wife towards where the rest of the crowd was gathering at long rectangular picnic tables to help themselves to food, that she would not have her life any other way, her status as a fully-fledged werewolf notwithstanding at all.

Somehow, she knew that, as long as Remus was by her side, everything was going to be okay. She just knew it.

* * *

"Breathe, Norah, just breathe!" Ollie flinched as he heard another hoarse cry come from the opposing room despite Tonks's soothing tone, and a midwife as well.

Months after their wedding and baby Brennan was finally making his or her way into the world. He wrung his hands until they hurt for about the millionth time in one evening and his heartbeat faltered against his chest again.

Ollie jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned at the waist to see a sympathetically smiling Remus, and he thought it odd how their roles were reversed this time.

The last time, when Tonks had been in the middle of her labor giving birth to Ted, he had been the one to calm Lupin down, but this time, it was he who needed comfort. He swallowed down past the lump in his throat.

"She's going to be _fine_ , Ollie," the tall werewolf murmured in a quiet voice. "Your wife is strong. Stronger and tougher than anyone ever thinks to give credit for."

"Merlin damn it, Remus, it sounds like she's been tortured! Can't the midwife do something to help my wife?" he shouted, upon hearing an especially loud groan from Norah causing the poor Legilimens to flinch.

She was in such excruciating pain, how could she _possibly_ be all right? And all the while, he heard Tonks's voice, perfectly calm, coaching Norah to breathe and just relax.

"I'm afraid not, Ollie. Norah is too far into her labor at this stage. She's just going to have to endure the pain. Trust me, I suggested slipping a little brandy or some Fire Whisky into her tea last night, but Tonks shot it down. She said it would only make Norah sleepy and not able to have the strength to push when the time comes," Lupin said.

Ollie nodded and gave a light laugh, though it didn't mask the worry in his voice. Her pains were coming sooner, lasting longer, and gripping Norah harder as the hours passed. Whenever one would seize her body, Norah would try valiantly to breathe through the spasms and steel her body against them, but she could not keep down the desperate, pain-filled moans from her escaping throat.

A bloodcurdling scream sounded from their bedroom and Ollie tore himself from looking out the window.

Ollie couldn't take it anymore, bolting from where he had been sitting against the ledge of the windowsill and barreled into his bedroom, ignoring the startled protests of Tonks and the midwife, wanting to be by Norah's side.

"Thanks, Ol," Norah whispered, her blue eyes burning bright with tears as she lifted her head to meet his gaze, her husband not wasting a split second more as he bolted to their bedside and gripped onto Norah's hand.

'For what?" he asked hoarsely, brushing her sweat-drenched blonde bangs out of his wife's eyes. "I have—"

But his wife cut him off before Ollie could protest, her voice choked with emotion as Norah tried to find words to adequately express her gratitude for what Ollie had done for her. What he had, by marrying her, given _back_ to her.

"I—I don't know what I would do without you here," Norah whispered. "I don't think I can do it without you by my side," she whispered, her voice and face pained.

Ollie shook his head in disagreement as he held Norah's face to his, their foreheads resting against one another. "Oh, no, sweetheart," he tenderly corrected her, with a wide grin. "I'm the one who ought to be thanking you," he breathed in a breathless voice, the tears in his eyes matching hers. "You've given me…" he began, resting his hand over her swollen abdomen. "Everything I ever want." He stared into Norah's bright blue eyes, his heart in his chest feeling like it was damn near close to bursting. "You and our baby are my whole world now." His white smile was so warm and filled with contentment that for a moment, Norah forgot about her labor, and about Tonks and the midwife commanding her to focus on nothing else. "I love you, Norah Jameson," Ollie whispered lowly.

Norah focused her tired eyes solely on her husband. "I love you too," she declared quietly, her hand resting overtop Ollie's, which was still firmly on her stomach. "And our baby," she sighed, sounding exhausted.

Ollie nodded, squeezing onto Norah's hands, and apparently, that was just enough for another contraction to come through. A half-hour later, with Ollie soothingly whispering remarks into the shell of her ear, Remus helping by fetching fresh towels and hot water when needed, and Tonks and their local midwife in Sussex at the foot of their bed calmly commanding Norah to not fight it, her labor progressed quickly, and their baby was ready to make its way into the world.

"Norah, Norah, love, stop crying, and look at me, look into my eyes!" Tonks's tone was harsh but confident, and it allowed Norah to focus through the haze of agony that she found herself in.

This was bloody _it_ , the moment she and Ollie would meet their baby. A passing fear wracked its way through the blonde werewolf for a moment and then was replaced with the same fierce determination Norah had been feeling the last few months. The powers of nature and existence took over, and with a force, Norah didn't even know she had left in her, Norah began to bear down hard, pushing their baby out of her womb and into the world.

The burning, stretching pain was worse than anything she had ever felt in her life. It hadn't even been like this when she'd given birth to Jax years ago, but it did not stop her. Norah propelled herself onwards, feeling their baby's head begin to emerge between her legs.

From the bottom of their bed, she saw Tonks and the midwife shoot her an encouraging smile, and Norah took that as a good sign.

"That's it, Norah, I see it! The top of your baby's head is showing, black hair, just like its father! Keep pushing, I need you to push, keep going, it's almost over!"

For all Norah's strength and resolve, she could not overcome and bury her pains of childbirth, and her bloodcurdling, hoarse, pain-filled screams carried well into the late hours of the night, but they brought with them the announcement of a birth, a new precious life into the world, a great witch or wizard in the making, a Brennan.

Norah struggled and pushed, gritting her teeth as she bore down hard, grunting and breathing rapidly until at last, she heaved one final groan, and though Ollie couldn't see it, could hear the slightest sound of release, and then the loud cries of a newborn infant as Ollie's wife flopped against the pillows, panting with exhaustion.

"You are a mother, Norah! To a beautiful baby girl! Verena, look how pretty she!" Tonks gushed happily.

"Mrs. Lupin, we can look at her _later_! Take the towel and clean her off! Oh, but Mr. and Mrs. Brennan, she is beautiful. Congratulations, you two!" the midwife said.

Ollie felt tears well in his lids as he glanced at their infant daughter, seconds old, though he tore his gaze away from their child and looked towards Norah to see how his wife fared.

She was pale and tired against the bed, her blue eyes red-rimmed and cracked at the edges, utterly bloodshot, the color drained from her face, strands of her blonde hair stuck to her forehead, but she was smiling in the way that only a mother could, and she didn't bother to stifle back her half-choked sob as Tonks silently handed the swaddled white blanketed bundle to Norah and Ollie.

"She's beautiful, you two," Tonks whispered in a low voice, moving to stand next to Remus proudly.

Ollie glanced down at the bundle in his wife's arms and with a slightly shaking hand, peeled back the swaddling and finally saw a tiny head, no bigger than an orange, peeking out from underneath the white blankets.

The little head was covered in damp, dark black hair, just like his. A tiny, minuscule ear, delicate as a seashell and perfectly formed, caught the new father's eye.

"This our daughter," Norah whispered hoarsely. Ollie nodded numbly and pulled up a chair and sat down, Norah moving their baby closer so he could see her face.

Little blue-grey eyes peeked out at the new world in wonder. Her lips were pale pristine pink, like her mother's and in Ollie's eyes, perfect, and Ollie thought their baby's mouth and nose and chin were like Norah's.

While the thick tuft of black hair was all him, and her blue-grey eyes came from both of her parents.

"She looks like you, Norah," was the first thing Remus said, slinging an arm around Tonks's shoulder and pulling her close, pressing an affectionate kiss to her damp forehead.

Norah shook her head weakly but jovially. "I think he's like Ollie," she whispered, putting her hand in the blanket and drew out a tiny, fisted hand with affection.

Ollie put his finger on it, stroking the brand-new skin with such a delicate tenderness as if their daughter were made of the finest china, that she'd shatter upon the first contact. The tiny fingers splayed out as if greeting her father. She had long fingernails. _Must be a wolf thing…._

Tonks clasped her hands together in excitement, breaking Ollie out of his musings of his daughter's fingers.

"What's her name?" Tonks asked eagerly.

"Well…" Norah said thoughtfully, looking down at the precious bundle in her and Ollie's arms, glancing sideways at her husband out of the corner of her eye for confirmation. "For certain we're using the names, Amelie, for my mother, and I was hoping, with your permission, Tonks, that you would grant us the honor of using one of the names of the women from the Lestrange family tree."

"Oh, not Bellatrix!" Tonks practically exploded, to which her outburst earned a light chuckle from Remus.

"No, no, not _that_ ," Norah quickly explained, crinkling her nose in disgust. "I—I was thinking…Leta. I heard that Gellert Grindelwald killed her personally, a long time ago, b—but that she was actually quite _nice_ , at least according to the records that I was able to dig up when I was looking for names that we could use, and, well…"

"Amelie Leta Brennan," Ollie said slowly, letting the name roll languidly off his tongue as he tested the name.

Norah nodded, collapsing her head back against the pillow. "She looks like an Amelie to me," she said happily.

She closed her eyes tired and soon, she was asleep. Ollie took their daughter from Norah's arms, letting his wife sleep soundly against the pillows, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to her brow and walking with Tonks and Lupin to the front porch of their cottage to see them out.

As he stood out on the porch, his precious angel nestled in his arms, watching their friends Disapparate from the edge of his property to return to their own home and their baby, Ollie thought his life was finally truly perfect. And he would not change a thing for the world.

This child, the product of their love, was the most precious thing that Ollie ever held in his arms. He was now truly ready to be a father to his little girl and knew without a shadow of doubt in his mind, that Norah would be the best mother ever. With a soft smile, he turned and went back inside, gently closing the door behind, knowing he would see Tonks and Remus in a day or two. This he knew.

But for now, he was content to spend the rest of the night by Norah's side, his daughter in his arms, until the little family fell asleep nestled in each other's arms, the rain pattering outside the window as a storm rolled in, quickly lulled the proud new parents soundly to sleep.

* * *

**FIVE YEARS LATER**

"Teddy! Hurry up, the Weasley's are going to _kill_ us if we're late!" Tonks called up into the loft of their cottage, trying to speed along the process of hurrying Teddy along to their downstairs. It was Christmas Eve morning, and Teddy insisted on putting on the new Weasley sweater Mrs. Weasley had knitted for him to wear to Christmas lunch.

But that meant fumbling with the buttons of his collared shirt underneath, as Teddy wanted to take after Remus, and buttons were something Teddy Remus Lupin was still learning how to master, much to Dora's amusement. "I'm almost done, Mom! Just two buttons!" she heard Teddy's quiet voice call back down the stairwell.

Tonks rolled her eyes and tapped her foot impatiently, scrutinizing her figure in her simple red turtleneck sweater and black leggings and black boots.

Remus's light laugh came from directly behind Tonks and Tonks didn't bother to stifle her smile as she felt her husband's arm snake their way around her waist and did not protest as Lupin rested his chin on her left shoulder.

"We've got plenty of time, Dora. Let Teddy do what he wants. We're Apparating, it's not like we have to go very far to get to the Burrow. Molly will understand."

Remus John Lupin, the voice of reason and calm logic in their marriage and parenthood. He was a wonderful father and husband, and Tonks loved Lupin now more than ever.

Whenever she watched him play with Teddy, teaching him wizard's chess with Ron's help whenever they went over to the Burrow (which was on a weekly basis) or Gobstones, her heart swelled to bursting.

Being a wife, and more importantly these days, a mother, was a role that was more important than Tonks could ever imagine, and neither she nor Remus let their lycanthropy get the better of their role as Teddy's parents.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had become the recent elect Minister of Magic, and the first thing her friend and colleague had done was abolish the Anti-Werewolf Legislation Act and forced potion brewers and shops in Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley to lower their prices, ensuring the Wolfsbane Potion was affordable for all wolves. Fate had definitely smiled on Tonks and Lupin, but only the two of them exercised their will to make it so.

Fate and free will were not absolutes, they worked together to form a person's life, never canceling out, and this Christmas, Tonks knew she definitely had a life worth celebrating for and thanked Merlin for the gift he'd given.

Finally, dressed, and ready, little Teddy bounded down the stairwell, taking the stairs two, three at a time.

He was tall for his age, taking after his father in that regard, carrying himself with dignity and self-proclaimed authority beyond their son's five years of age, those traits definitely came from Remus, whereas his slight mischievous streak and fierce sense of loyalty towards his friends and family definitely came from Nymphadora.

"Are we going now, Daddy? Mummy?" Teddy asked hopefully, unable to conceal the note of hope in his voice.

Tonks and Lupin exchanged a knowing little smirk as Lupin scooped Teddy up into his arms so the boy could clamber onto the proud father's shoulders for a piggyback ride, his favorite place to sit and watch the world above.

Teddy loved spending time with the entire Weasley family and had an adorable crush on Ollie and Norah's daughter, Amelie, a spitting image of both of her parents, only a year behind Teddy, and when they were old enough, they would be attending Hogwarts together.

Perhaps fate had something planned in mind for their children as well, and with Teddy's fierce determination, which was just as strong as his mother's, it was a definite possibility. They wouldn't rule that out.

"Yes, Teddy, we are. They can't wait to see you again," Lupin answered solemnly. "They want to see how much you've grown now in just the span of a week," he joked, casting a sideways glance towards Tonks, winking.

"But they only saw me on Sunday, Dad!" Teddy protested in a confused voice as he rested his head on top of his father's hair. "I can't have grown that much in…" He paused, having to count the days that had passed on his fingertips, "Um, five days!" he squeaked breathlessly.

"Really? Was it only five days? You seem so much taller already," Remus replied warmly, only half-joking.

He glanced over his shoulder and Tonks and met his wife's gaze and smiled as the little family stepped out onto the porch with the intent to Disapparate to the Burrow, hopefully just in time to catch the last of the Christmas turkey before there wasn't any left. Christmas and birthdays were always a packed house at the Burrow.

Lupin paused as he thought of how falling in love with Tonks had never been planned. They were just supposed to be partners in the Orders, just friends, nothing more, just her and him and nothing in between.

But their stars aligned, and a magnetic great force pulled them together. Lupin thought he would never forget the way her face rested on his dry hands.

Holding Dora's soft pale face gave Remus a sense that he finally belonged, that he was loved. Tonks's glistening cerulean eyes had the power of washing away his sorrows. Kissing her thin pink lips stopped the world from turning, it was just her and him in this big universe.

But it's alright because she there with him. Their marriage was written in their eyes the first time Lupin met Tonks, not a thing of humankind or their laws, yet it existed as if the universe had brought together their two souls already betrothed, and Remus knew that as his eyes met that of his wife's and he held out his hand for her to take so the family could Disapparate, that Tonks was perfectly imperfect for him, just as he was for Dora.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
